Get Down With The Sickness
by walkingdisaster6
Summary: He does drugs, she hates herself, they can't face reality and you've seen it all. Is there a silver lining? Is there a happy ending? And most importantly: Are the 29ers going to live to see it? !violence! !drugs! !angst! !dark themes! !more!
1. It Hits

It was starting to get to everyone. The dawning thought that they'd never be rescued. The thought that they'd have to eat bananas for the rest of their lives and wash their clothes in the ocean.

Taylor was tired of the daily routine of backbreaking work she needed to do just to have her next meal. She was also tired of everyone telling her she was the weakest link. That she never pulled her own weight. Even though it seemed as though Taylor could care less and did less she put forth her best effort. But being a pampered spoiled rich girl, her best didn't cut it.

"You done with the water?" Eric asked, breaking her thoughts. He was a cute and she figured him dating material in the beginning but the more she got to know him the more she detested him. Though she tried, he did not. Eric went intentionally out of his way to hurt other people.

"Yeah, just about," Taylor answered, handing him a water bottle. The diluting of the water was treacherous work, only to have small dribble of water trickle into the bucket but they knew no other way.

"Soo," Eric said, letting the word hang in the air. The days had started to smash together, seeming more alike with each passing moment.

"I don't want to talk Eric." Short and too the point.

"Touchy!" Eric cried, making sure to kick some sand into the almost full bucket before leaving her to start all over again.

Taylor was ready to get up and punch him in the face when a desperate voice called in the distance, "HELP!" Taylor gave Eric one last dirty look and turned to the forest to look for Melissa. The source of the voice.

She only needed to run a few meters into the forest to find Melissa, the others already there. Jackson laid on Melissa's lap, his cheeks flushed with fever and sweat soaking his hairline.

"We were getting fire wood when he suddenly collapsed!" Melissa cried shrilly, clearly worried about her crush. That had always annoyed Taylor, the fact that Melissa wanted Jackson. The one boy Taylor knew she would never have but secretly wanted. Melissa was too perfect for the boy; she wouldn't be able to deal with the past he kept so bottled up.

"He's really hot," Daley whispered then looked up at Taylor, "I need you to get the water that you've been cleaning all morning and meet me by the tents."

"Daley…," Taylor began, the resentment towards Eric rising.

"What?" she was picking up Jackson's legs as Nathan took his shoulders gently.

"I had it all ready but Eric-" Daley sighed impatiently, "If you don't have the water done, fine. But I don't want to hear your stupid excuses. Get me all the water you can."

Taylor felt her eyes stinging with unshed tears. "Yeah, okay." She watched sadly as Jackson was carried away


	2. Fever

Nathan and Daley laid Jackson on his sleeping bag, feeling the heat of his fever through his clothing.

"You don't think he drank bad water again, do you?" Nathan asked, hating to see their leader in such a weak state. Jackson mumbled something deliriously, squirming against their hold.

"No," Daley said, "He wouldn't do that."

Lex appeared with a medical kit in one hand and a thermometer in the other. They had found the medical supplies inside the plane ages ago. With a worried look on his face, Lex stuck the device in Jackson's mouth.

"We can't really know what's wrong with him in till he wakes up." The reality of the situation hit Nathan hard. Jackson could die. The survivors knew this might happen at one point or another but… When it finally seemed like it was going to happen it brought them a whole new perspective.

Daley walked out as Taylor came in with a water bottle. "Is he going to be okay?"

Lex took the thermometer out at that moment, inspecting the tiny numbers that indicated if their friend was going to be alright. He frowned. "102.3."

Jackson turned to one side, making a retching noise as his body emptied itself of everything. He moaned but didn't open his eyes. More sweat was breaking out on his face giving them the impression that it was too hot inside the tent. Nathan grabbed the upper half of the sleeping bag and dragged it outside.

Taylor dropped down on her knees and started sponging Jackson with a sheet.

"Hey! That's mine!" Nathan whined but wasn't too offended.

"Deal with it."

The survivors crowded around their fallen leader, not knowing that to do. That was usually his decision.

"Maybe it's just a bad flu," Melissa said, hoping for the best.

"Or maybe it's an island sickness and there's no cure," Lex said, expecting the worse.

Taylor hit him, "Don't say that!"

"But it could be true," Daley.

"Thinking like that won't help!" Nathan cried angrily.

The bickering continued, yells of protest and denial filling the island air.

_This is ridiculous, _Nathan thought, suddenly stopping the argument with Lex. He had never really had power in his life, always one step below Daley even here. His self esteem took a real beating when he came here, knowing that he would never be the best. Jackson or Daley always taking the lead. Or even little Lex. Not only did it annoy him but it hurt him.

"SHUT UP!" Nathan screamed as the group came to a screeching halt.

"Nathan…?" a small voice muttered, sounding as though they were sick. They all looked down at the now awake Jackson.


	3. Pneumonia

I'm glad you guys like it!! Here's the next part, sorry for the cliffy.

I forgot the disclaimer…. : I don't own anything… I wish I did… but I don't..

-

"Jackson!" Melissa cried, sticking her face right in his, "Are you alright?"

He squinted at her for a second, as if he didn't recognize her, and then rolled to the side. The group watched as he puked up whatever didn't come up since his last session.

Jackson let out a low moan, "I-it's cold." The thin white shirt he had been wearing was starting to turn a deeper gray, sweat soaking through it.

"Tell us what's wrong Jackson," Lex told the sick teen, knowing that his fever was still going up.

"Everything…"

Taylor knelt down, gently tipping some water into his mouth while tilting his head so he wouldn't choke. She noticed how broken and weak he looked now. Jackson didn't look like the bad ass leader that was keeping them all alive. Just a sickly boy who wanted nothing but to feel better. Taylor wished she could give that.

"You need to tell us more Jackson," Lex urged the boy.

"Chest hurts," Jackson coughed violently, ending his sentence. He wanted to go back into that oblivion where he couldn't hear anyone. He wanted to go back to sleep.

"Stay with us Jackson," Melissa grabbed his warm hand. He coughed again, using his free hand to cover his mouth. There was no need to give everyone what he had. Whatever it was.

"Oh god!" Daley's eyes widened as he took his hand from his mouth. Blood splattered the palm like thick paint.

Jackson looked at his hand for a second, sighed, and fell back into the comfortable oblivion.

"It pneumonia," Lex whispered, the gears in his head turning swiftly. He recalled an article he had read earlier on:

"Most people who develop pneumonia initially have symptoms of a cold which are then followed by a high fever, shaking chills, and a cough with sputum production. The sputum is usually discolored and sometimes bloody. Patients may become short of breath. Chest pain may develop if the outer aspects of the lung are involved. This pain is usually sharp and worsens when taking a deep breath, known as pleuritic pain."

"Wha?" Taylor said after a second.

"Did I say that out loud?"

"You betcha.'"

Melissa gave Jackson's hand a squeeze, noticing how plagued his face looked. As if he were dreaming something very unpleasant. "Is he going to be alright?"

"Considering he was already in a weaken state because of the water poisoning he had…" Lex swallowed. Jackson needed medicine.

Another flash of the article appeared in his head but he made sure he didn't say it aloud:

"Prior to the discovery of antibiotics, one-third of all people who developed pneumonia subsequently died from the infection. Currently, over 3 million people develop pneumonia each year in the United States. Over a half a million of these people are admitted to a hospital for treatment. Although most of these people recover, approximately 5 percent will die from pneumonia. Pneumonia is the sixth leading cause of death in the United States."

No…


	4. Support

Melissa never left Jackson's side. When he was puking his guts she was there. When he was fast asleep on a sleeping bag she was there. She had chewed her lip bloody, just seeing Jackson like this made her want to cry. But she didn't. If Jackson couldn't be strong, she'd be strong for the both of them.

"Melissa?" A voice called, a day after they had figured out about his illness. She turned around to see Lex, the most morbid of the group. He only came in to check his tempiture and sigh.

"Yeah Lex?"

"He needs more fluids, it doesn't matter if he's puking it up, just keep pumping him full of water okay?" Lex explained. He glanced at Jackson, noticting the dusty shade of purple starting to eat away at his pale skin.

It was a bad case of pnedemonia, of course. Even out of the wild, Jackson would be in critical condition. Lex would give him another week and that would be the end of their leader. He didn't want to waste supplies on him but he knew the group wouldn't accept defeat. 

"Okay," Melissa nodded, grabbing the water bottle behind him. As she dribbled water down Jackson's throat, she looked up at Lex.

"He's going to alright, you know. A sickness isn't going to be the thing that brings him down. You need to believe that he's going to get better Lex or you're not going to give it your all."

Lex shook his head, "You need to face the facts Melissa. Look at him and tell me he's strong enough to get over this."

Melissa glanced down at Jackson, his mouth slightly opened and glistening with the water she had just gave him. His black shirt clung to his chest like a second skin. She remembered pulling off the old shirt, the ripping sound echoing throughout the tent. It was like they were pulling off his actually skin.

Jackson's dark hair was unkept, matted and greasy. Like Melissa herself had dumped a tin of Crisco on it and rubbed it in. His white skin looked like paper, frail and tearable, cheeks flushed with a purplish color. 

"Y-yeah," Melissa said after a minute or so, "'Course he'll make it." 

"Are you telling me that? Or yourself?"

"Just shut up Lex. Get out and go do something else. If you don't have faith in him than you're just as bad as the sickness yourself." Melissa voice was dark and emotionless.

"J-just stop it. Thebothofyou," a voice slurred.

"Jackson?" 

"Please, stop." His mouth moved but his eyes stayed close.

Jackson never begged. He commanded. Melissa bit her scabbed lips, "Okay, we'll stop. Just go back to slee-"

"No!" Lex yelled suddenly. He blushed as Melissa glared at him.

"No," he said more gentally, "Stay awake as long as you can." 

Jackson nodded pitifully, the black pit he had been in all this time wanting to suck him back in. He knew his body wanted to but his mind was restless.

Lex left the tent, leaving Melissa and Jackson to themselves.

"How you feeling?" she asked.

"Like shit."

"Understandable," she laughed for the first time since he had fallen ill.

"I keep seeing faces," Jackson muttered, suddenly opening his eyes. They were bloodshot and unfocused.

"What faces?"

"Julianna..." his eyes suddenly widened as he reilized what he had said.


	5. Painful Past

I'm really sorry for not updating this in awhile. I hate it when authors do this so I nevered planned on doing that. Anyways, my internet is screwy right now but I'll still be upating. My spelling and such might be a bit weak because I don't have my trusty microsoft but it won't be horrible. I swear. Well here the next chapter! Happy Valentine's Day!!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.. maybe Julianna.. But no one else.

Jackson fiddled with his necklace absently. It had been a present from her, for Valentine's. He remembered the fragile one he had given her, silver chain always tangled but always on her neck. He also remembered when she had died. The silver chain was still stubbornly hanging from her neck as the blood poured from her wound. Red liquid staining Jackson's hands as he tried to stop the threat but it had been impossible. There was too much.

"Who's that?" Melissa asked softly, shattering the vivid picture he had created in his head. Too vivid for his heart to take.

"She was my girlfriend," he shrugged, his head was starting to get a little too heavy. Eyelids drooping, he struggled to stay awake. Focus on something, Jackson. Anything!

"Tell me about her."

He smiled. "She was great."

"Was?" Melissa tried not to hide her jelously, instead focusing on the dispair appearing in his light eyes.

"She was killed," he told her, hiding the emotion that was making his voice crack. Jackson coughed harshly, closing his eyes. They didn't want to open back up.

"Stay with me Jackson. How did she die?" Melissa asked, trying to get him to stay awake. She didn't know why Lex wanted him to in the first place but on the island, he was the doctor.

He wasn't seeing the inside of a tent anymore. Instead, it was the late afternoon. Rain was pouring on the ragged blacktop of a parking lot and his hand was clamped around the wrist of a girl around his age. She was shaking with cold even though he had let her have his jacket. Maybe it wasn't cold though, fear was the only thing he was feeling, sending goose bumps down his arms.

"So you think your hot stuff, do you Cody? You have a girlfriend and a new school so you think you're better than us, is that it?" an older boy took a step towards the couple, sending them a few paces back.

"No, that's not what I'm saying at all," Jackson told the man, using one arm to propel his frozen girlfriend behind him. He knew the older boy well enough, white cornrolls decortating his even whiter scalp and peircing green eyes emotionless. Kyle was one of those guys you knew would harm everyone and everybody for no good reason and enjoy every single second of it. They had been friends at some point but Jackson couldn't remember that point.

"Why are you here then?! To show us your new gal, rub it in our faces that we're beneath you now!" Kyle took another step forward, only a few inches from Jackson's face. He could smell the booze from miles away, Kyle was drunk.

"Well, we're not Cody. I still know you as the smart ass little boy who used to steal from old peaple and break into houses," He leaned in intill he could whisper in Jackson's ear, "I still remember that piggy bank you took a while back. The one with little flowers and faries, the one that belonged to a pig-tailed little girl who was saving up to buy who-knows-what. Don't think you're better than us, Cody. Don't."

Jackson bit his lip, he remember it to. He remembered walking home that night with the piggy bank in hand too. Tears spilling over his cloudy eyes. Haley needed food. He needed food. The pig-tailed girl was going to have to deal, she needed to.

"I'm not better than you guys, I know that," Jackson finally said, "But you're my friends! I thought you'd be happy for me!"

Kyle shoved him roughly. "We're not your friends anymore, punk. In fact... you're dead to us."

Jackson's eyes widened as the words left his mouth. "Julianna run!"

The knife flew out. It seemed like slow motion to him but he couldn't move as his girlfriend stepped in front of the weapon. And in front of him.

"No!" His voice was raw with regret. Jackson was back in the tent, delerious with fever. Bile rose inside him and he had just enough time to turn his head and puke in the bucket they had supplied him with. The taste was like acid but he welcomed it.

You deserve it. It's all your fault she died and you know it. It doesn't matter if this kills you, at least you'll get what you deserve. The voice inside his head was chanting.

"Oh my god!" Melissa cried shrilly. She had listened intently to his story even though she knew he hadn't meant to say it aloud.

Jackson laid back on his pillow, exhaustion from doing absoutly nothing piling on top of his headache. "When can I sleep?" He asked her.

"Now, just do it now." She fought the tears that were sleeping down her cheeks. She couldn't save him from this, she couldn't stop the pain. Only Julianna could... And she was dead.


	6. Lex The KnowItAll

Chapter Ten: Melissa's Misunderstands

Chapter Six: Lex The Know It All

Lex looked up at the sky, the sun was high and burning brightly. On the island there were no skyscrapers or clouds of pollution blocking its rays, only palm trees. It seemed almost impossible that only Taylor had managed to get a sun burn.

"Hey Lex?"

His small frame turned to meet the voice of his adopted sister, Daley. She always pretended she knew what she was doing and how to do it. He knew her whole assertive personality was a lie to make her feel useful.

"Yeah?" He asked her, biting his lip. He could taste the blood but refused to stop the pressure, it felt good, the pain.

"Are you alright? I mean I know how hard this is for you," She touched his shoulder but Lex shrugged away. He resisted the urge to tell her she didn't know. She didn't know anything.

"Why would it be?"

"Don't make me say it outloud," she whined.

Lex's small fingers curled into a fist, "Do it."

Daley closed her eyes. "Not everyone dies from this, Lex. Your real Mom... It's not always like that, you know."

"Shut up Daley." It was a simple request but it hurt her. Lex never talked like that to anybody.

"Lex...," She said his name, hesitantly, "I'm only saying this because I don't want you to give up on Jackson."

"He's dead already, even you know it," Lex snarled, standing up.

At that moment Melissa came out of the tent, her face tear streaked and white. Her eyes squinted at the sudden light but she walked towards the two adopted siblings with purpose. "Jackson fell asleep, sorry. Why'd you want him awake anyways?"

"I wanted to see if he could do it. Most people can't stay awake for too long, I wanted to see if he was different," His words were low and emotionless but Daley knew the meaning of them.

It meant Lex had abandoned all hope that Jackson would live.

"No," Daley swung Lex around to meet her eyes, "Jackson is different. He'll pull through. You need to believe that Lex. You need to."

"It doesn't make a difference what I think. It didn't stop Mom and it won't stop Jackson. He'll leave us too, just wait."

Lex broke from Daley's grip and took off for the forest before she could stop him.

"Nathan!" Daley screamed twenty minutes later. Her red hair stuck to her forehead and billowed around her shoulders like an untamed fog. Her heart was beating rapidly, the wild goose chase had been a failure because Lex was still out there.

Daley remembered running after the small boy, trees lashing at her body and random logs sending her crashing to the ground. Lex had nimbly avoided everything and even managed to lose his desperate sister in the deep jungle. But that didn't mean she gave up.

She sprinted back to camp, only getting lost twice with the new found energy she had gained. Daley found Nathan in Jackson's tent. He was watching the sleeping teenager intently as if he expected him to die any minute. Who knows? He might.

"Nathan," she gasped again, her side burning, "Lex ran away from camp! I tried to follow him but..."

"But you lost him," Nathan said calmly, still staring at Jackson who was muttering utter nonsence in his sleep.

"I need your help!" Daley whined.

"He'll come back on his own Day. Just wait," He reassured her. Nathan had been acting weird ever since Jackson had gotten ill... Than again, they all were. Was Jackson really the one they needed to worry about or was it the unseen force tearing them all apart?


	7. Nathan Hears All

Chapter 7: Nathan Hears All

Chapter 7: Nathan Hears All

Lex tripped over a log... again... the same one? His knees scraped the hard wood, reopening the wound already there. He stubbornly didn't want to go back to camp. Too ashamed to face Daley or Melissa. Jackson actually... Even though he hadn't heard most of the conversation or was too ill to comprehend it.

Lex had given up on the one person who never loss faith in him. Abandoning him in his time of need.

"Maybe I should head back," Lex whispered to himself, "They are probably more worried about me coming back than the way I behaved."

He trudged on, hoping to God he could find his way back even though the sun was getting lower. The bugs buzzed angrily as he passed through their gathering, taking the time to string him repeativly.

This sucks.

It wasn't in till the sun had sunken underneath the horizon did Lex find himself somewhere remotely familer. Along with something else...

...Back At Camp...

"He's burning up."

"He was burning up awhile ago!"

"Maybe water will help."

"He just pukes that up, why waste water?!"

"Just shut up!"

"No you shut up!"

"Guys..."

"Melissa!"

"Eric, stop it!"

"What the hell! Throwing sand is so first grade!"

"Hey..."

"You're so first grade!"

"Your Mom is first grade!"

"Hey..."

"Oh, how mature!"

"HEY GUYS I'M BACK!!" Lex yelled finally, stopping the fight between the castaways.

"Wha- Oh my god! Lex!" Daley yelped, taking the small boy in a hug.

"Finally..." Eric muttered, rubbing sand out of his eyes.

Melissa elbowed him but stopped to glance at what Lex was holding. Her face twisted in confusion. "Is that a weed?"

"No, it's Billow's Weed ((DON'T LOOK IT UP GUYS, ONE OF MY FEW NON-REALISTIC FACTS))! It might help with Jackson's fever!"

"Really?" Nathan asked, he had been the one to state that Jackson's fever was indeed getting higher.

"Yeah, I heard about it on TV, you can brew it like tea and it's suppose to bring it down."

Daley only smiled. Knowing that her brother had found new hope in the exotic jungle. And may have finally found peace with his mother.

Jackson opened his eyes the next day, it was mid-afternoon and it had been a full 24 hours since he had gone under, giving into the darkness.

His eyelids felt heavy with lack of use and his limps felt even heavier but he wanted to stay awake. The time consuming darkness was starting to bring his so carefully repressed memories to the surface. Making them tumble out in his fevered sleep.

Nathan had known this, of course and had made himself comfortable as he watched Jackson mutter dark and twisted secrets that haunted his inner self. It had almost amused him in a way, to know that their all too perfect leader was more flawed than all of them put together.

The tug of disapointment erupted in his mind as he watched Jackson struggle to get up. The tea that was forced down his throat hourly was actually helping keep the fever at bay. His tempiture actually lowering to a 102.4.

"Hey buddy," Nathan said gentally as Jackson's dialated eyes focused on him, "How ya' feelin'?"

"Shitty," he formed the word, noticing the amount of effort it drained from him. Jackson knew... felt that Nathan had been watching him. Feeling his dark eyes take in the information he so unwillingly spill out.

"Anything you want?"

"Yeah... Taylor."

"Why-" Nathan stopped as he watched Jackson puke in the bucket. The smell of an unknown herb drifted in the air as Jackson retched the tea that had been pumped in him.

Jackson fell back on the sleeping bag and closed his eyes, giving into the darkness once again.


	8. Stolen Kisses

EXCUSES, EXCUSES!! SORRY GUYS, APPERENTLY MY MICROSOFT PROBLEM LED TO VIRSUSES! MY COMPUTER IS CRAWLING IN DISASTERS NOW!!

Chapter 8: Stolen Kisses

"Jackson wants you," Nathan announced, emerging from the tent that Jackson was sleeping in. He had been there since Lex had came back, giving him the tea personally as if it amused him when Jackson sputtered and choked on the werid herb.

"Me?" Taylor asked, confused. The sun was high in the sky, heat pulsing on her exposed neck like the beat to a song. It was one of the hotter days on the island, tempers were short and everyone felt a little too lazy to do much of anything.

"Yeah," Nathan shrugged it off as if it meant nothing to him. In fact, it had hurt him to know that Jackson would rather have Taylor with him then Nathan.

She stood up, brushing sand off her pants, "Okay!" Taylor threw the blond hair from her sticky face and made her way towards the tent. Avoiding the place hadn't been too hard, she had busied herself with other work the exact moments Nathan would call for someone else to take over for an hour or two.

It actually pained Taylor to see him this way. It also made her scared. Was it fatal? Could she caught it? Would she catch it?

Jackson opened his eyes, seeing the world as if it were made of white marshmellows and pillows. His body was weightless, boneless in a way. And in a way, he felt at peace with himself and everything he did.

"Jackson?" A voice called, making him turn around, looking for the souce.

There stood a girl, with long blond hair and sparkling blue eyes. "Julianna?"

"What?" The girl asked, turning her face into a way that made it seem cute and ugly at the same thing.

"I thought you were dead," Jackson sighed, making his way towards the confused girl. He wrapped his arms around her carefully as if she might break. Than again, she had been dead, she might break!

"What are you doing?" Taylor whispered before Jackson planted a kiss on her lips. Heat radiated from his body, reminding her that he, indeed, was sick. Delerious too, most likely.

But she liked the way their lips matched each other's movements as she returned the kiss. Taylor giggled as his tongue danced inside her mouth, experienced in the art even through the sickness.

"Why the sudden change in heart?" Taylor finally asked as Jackson took in several deep breaths. Pneumonia had taken its toll and robbed him of the amount of time he could could without breathing.

"No change of heart... Julianna," he rasped, feeling the burn erupt in his throat and lungs. The darkness was over coming him but he liked the way he felt. Or the way he lacked to feel. It didn't feel like Julianna, her lips were far less sure. Maybe she had gained her confidence after dying and all.

They kissed again but Taylor pulled away, "Jackson I can't do this."

"Why not?" He tried to push himself on her but he was too weak for her.

"I'm not Julianna, I'm Tayl-" She was interupped by another kiss. Even though he hadn't bathed in days, he smelt good and too hard to turn away from.

You tried, she thought to herself, shaking off the guilt. He had wanted to do this, he had started it himself! If he had regrets about it later, it wasn't her fault!

Melissa zipped the tent back up, tears dripping down her face.


	9. Cat Fight

Chapter 9: Cat Fight

"What was that?" Melissa asked nonchantly as Taylor emerged from the tent. Her eyes were wide, thinking about Jackson's lips on hers. Of all the boys she had ever kissed, Jackson came out on top. And he was sick!

"What was what?" Taylor said innocently, swooping down to grab a water bottle. The sun had seemed to grow hotter if it were possible and she wasn't in the mood to deal with whiney Melissa.

"In there," She pointed towards the tent, "Don't act like you don't know."

Taylor's eyebrows rose and her hands went up in a surrendering gesture, "No idea what you're talking about Mel."

"I saw you kissing Jackson!"

Taylor glanced around, making sure no one else heard that. "So what? He started it!"

"He's sick you idiot! That's pretty much like rape!" Melissa struggled to keep her voice down. She wanted to tell somebody but she also didn't want them to think she was jelous.

"It is not!" Taylor's face grew red, "I asked him if he wanted to and he said yes!"

"But he's sick!"

"So?! I guess his hormones were runnin' high or something!" Taylor pointed out.

"That's not the point!" Melissa wailed, even she could feel the whiney five-year-old edge her voice had.

"You're just jelous Jackson didn't kiss you," Taylor said quietly.

The punch came quick and sudden. Taylor fell to the ground in shock. "What the hell!"

"I am not!" Melissa cried, tears suddenly appearing in her eyes. She liked the way Taylor's eyes showed fear. Fear of her. Her foot lashed out and connected with Taylor's face.

"Stop! STOP! Melissa!" Taylor yelled, trying to black her face from further damage.

She kissed him. Taylor the brat kissed him. She got her dirty lips all over his. Melissa repeated the sentences in her head, almost amazed as the anger grew inside her.

Taylor's eyes widened, "Don't make me hurt you Mel."

"You?! Hurt me??" Melissa laughed but was cut off by Taylor's tackled. Sand was thrown into her eyes.

"Bitch!" Melissa screamed throwing random punches. Both girls had never been in a fight before, thumbs were inside fists as they tried to punch one another. Fingers connecting with one another instead of the actual fist. To most it would be an uneventful fight...

"Mel," The voice was soft and barely audible.

They couldn't hear it.

"Taylor," The voice called again.

"Wait...," Taylor tried to stop Melissa but she carried out.

"Stop for a sec, you idiot!"

That only made her angrier.

Tayor managed to pull herself away from the other girl and sprint for the tent. Jackson laid sprawled on the sleeping bag, his cheeks turning a pale blue instead of it's dusty purple.

Melissa joined her in the tent, freezing when she saw the sickly teen.

"He's not breathing," Taylor managed a whisper. The thought actually clicked in her head, "He's not breathing!"

Melissa could only stare in shock, not even processing what she had said.

Taylor swept down, taking Jackson's head in her lap. His fever burned through her pants, the sweat dampening the denom.

"Breathe!" Taylor willed him, pounding on his chest like she had learned in life guard lessons. Without thinking, she knelt down and took his lips in hers, breathing into him.

One, two, three. She thought to herself as she pounded his chest once more than transfered to his mouth.

Melissa finally caught up or awakened, to some extent. "Hey! You're kissing him again!"

"Am not stupid!" Taylor managed to say as she pounded away.

His eyes finally opened as he gasped for breath. What little color he had, rushed back into his face.

"Can you hear me Jackson?" Taylor asked, worried that the lack of air had messed with his brain.

"Y-yeah," He managed, his raspy voice not even a whisper.

"Melissa go get some of that tea crap," Taylor told Melissa who had quieted again.

"No! You get it! If I leave you might start kissing again!"

Taylor was about to argue but looked down at Jackson's pleading face. His eyes fluttered, tilting towards the darkness but trying to stay awake. "You know what!? It doesn't matter. I'm gonna' go get it, you keep him safe!"

"Fine!"


	10. Melissa Misunderstands

Chapter Ten: Melissa's Misunderstands

Chapter Ten: Melissa's Misunderstands

Melissa looked down at Jackson, who was somewhere caught between reality and a made up world his mind had created.

"Where is she? I want her," He rasped, groping around for a hand he couldn't find. When Melissa offered her own hand he simply rejected it and kept searching. Like he could tell who it was through his fevered state.

"Jackson...," Melissa started, not able to finish through a cascade of tears. She wanted him so badly. And Taylor, of all people got him. Just like she got everything else she wanted. Melissa wiped away trail of sweat that had made it's way down to his cheek only to have him shrugged away. Even her touch was enough to make him recoil.

"Don't touch me," Jackson whispered. In his eyes, she wasn't Melissa but a boy from his cruel past. A boy who had ruined his life. Kyle. He wanted Julianna so bad. He had seen her. Kissed her. It may not have been possible and his mind wanted him to realize that but his whole being wasn't used to this. The feeling of pure happiness. Maybe his life didn't have to be one day after another, dragging by till he died of whatever the hell this was. Maybe there was hope for him after all.

Kyle touched him again. "Please Jackson."

"You hurt her. I hate you," Jackson shook his head. He wanted Kyle to know what pain he put him through but didn't have the strength to hurt him.

Melissa sobbed. Of, course. She had hurt Taylor, Jackson's new crush. Why hadn't she put his feelings before herself's? She was so stupid! Why hadn't she stopped being jelous enough to care? She had told herself she loved him. More than anything else in the world and she had hurt him.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered. She got up, putting a cover over his shaking body before leaving the tent. She couldn't face them after what she had done. And she didn't plan to.

Out here in on the island, no one could stop her. No one could save her. Melissa swooped down to give Jackson's hot cheek a kiss. He recoiled immediately but she didn't care. She walked out of the tent, only hesitating to give her sickened love one last look.

"I loved you."

DSGGRGYFJYHTGFSDFDSDADWQRUOLKMHBFCDSZXSADEGDFHFGJG

The clouds roll in fast, getting ready for a storm worth writing in the books. Lightening flashed in the distance as the thunder was already drumming in the sky. It seemed like the end of the world was coming, the end the castaways weren't ready for.

Taylor was sprinting for the tent, tea in a shaky hand and Lex in another. She was oblivious to the rain, only wanting to shove the smelly tea down Jackson's throat.

Lex was, of course, thinking of the exact opposite. Rain. Rain. Rain. They couldn't do this again! After what had happened last time… No! They couldn't last another one. He came to an abrupt halt, making Taylor slop half the cup of tea on her thin shirt.

"LEX!" Taylor shouted, the searing hotness of the tea making her nerves sing with discomfort.

"No!" Lex told her, "You get Jackson his tea. He'll have to do with just that for now. I need to get us ready for the storm!"

"But"- she was cut off by the small boy, "You can do it! Jackson won't survive this for sure if we just let it come!"

Taylor glanced at the tent with dismay. She knew she would be on her own. With Melissa. "Fine."

"Good luck!" Lex called to her, sprinting back to find Daley, Eric and Nathan.

Taylor jogged towards the tent after Lex was gone from sight. Her stomach was doing a series of summersaults, telling her she shouldn't go in.

Afraid of what she might see, she whispered his name first, "Jackson?"

No reply came.

Taylor sighed. It was now or never.

She entered the tent with as much courage as she could muster. And found nothing. No Melissa. No Jackson.

"What?" She asked aloud. As if someone would respond. Or maybe Melissa would walk out and yell, 'Just kidding!' Tears burned her eyes for no reason really. Maybe she was on a bathroom break. Yeah, and maybe she wasn't on an island stranded with no chance of rescue.

"MELISSA," Taylor screamed. Her voice sounding like she had been screaming for hours, yet this was the first time she had screamed like that. Like there was no hope left anymore.


	11. Two Mature Boys

Thanks for all the comments people! They motivate me, really! I've decided Eric needed to be acknowledged for some weird reason…

Chapter 11: Two Mature Boys

Eric looked up at the sky. It seemed to be angry at something… or someone. His foot connected with a nearby tree, the pain was nonexistent. He liked the hollow thuck it made, his sandals hitting the hard bark like a hand hitting the face of a child. Hitting things seem to be his first reaction, it seemed so much easier than having to talk it out or something equally difficult.

"At least I'm not at home…"

He remembered ratting on Jackson that one time, when he had said in his video diaries that he didn't want to be rescued. Truth be told, Eric was in no rush either. Getting back to the family that this island seemed to make invisible… It wasn't something he was looking forward to, getting back.

He could hear his dad's voice sometimes, hidden under Nathan's voice. When he scolded Eric, it sounded as if his father ad come back to haunt him.

"You can't hurt me anymore dad," Eric whispered, closing his eyes. His foot lashed out again, hitting something softer. Fleshier.

"Eric! You dumb ass!" Nathan shouted, the pain irrupting in his side. Eric kicked hard for someone who put no effort in anything but being a nuisance.

"Yeah, well, you shouldn't have been in my way," Eric muttered, feeling himself turn pink. He hoped to god Nathan hadn't heard him say the last statement.

Of course, praying to God only made it more likely to happen. "What was with that crap about your dad?"

"Nothing… I was just thinking."

"Does it hurt?"

"What?"

"Thinking," Nathan asked with mock seriousness.

"Piss off," Eric sputtered, "What did you want anyways?"

"Lex wants to round us all up so we don't have to worry about people getting lost during the storm," Nathan said nonchalantly, "I wouldn't mind you getting lost though."

"Thanks for caring," Eric replied. He was glad that insulting him had taken Nathan's mind off the father thing.

Nathan hadn't forgotten though, only keeping it in the back of his head for later use. Evil use, of course. The thunder had gotten louder, coming with a downpour of rain. Finally! If it was going to rain the least they could get was a shower!

"Damn," Eric muttered. He, on the other hand, hated the rain. His shirt was already starting to stick to his thin chest like a second skin.

"We have to help Taylor and Melissa move Jackson to our tent."

"Ew!" Eric shouted, "If we're in the same tent with him we'll get it too dumb shit!"

"Wasn't my idea, idiot," Nathan said, stepping over a log carefully after watching Eric slip on it. "Just doing what the Lex said."

"The kid is like a foot shorter than us. Can't we just ignore him?"

"Like hell you need my permission. You do what you want anyways!" Nathan pointed out. He wouldn't mind overthrowing Lex, his smart ass attitude was starting to get on his nerves. He would have punched his lights out a while ago if it weren't for Daley and her insistence on keeping Lex's face in one piece.

Nathan licked his lips. Daley. Her and her frizzy red hair could make his knees weak. He could stay on this island forever it was it was just he and her. Yes, he could see that happening.

Eric tripped suddenly, table topping Nathan as he slammed to the ground.

"Watch your big ass feet!" Nathan cursed, trying to untangle himself. They struggled for a moment, wrestling on the wet ground for a minute or so.

They only stopped when the loud sound of ripping fabric interrupted the rain.

"No!" Eric howled, staring at the hat. It was on the muddy ground in two pieces.

A picture of his dead sister flashed in his mind like warning sign. That was her hat! The only thing he had managed to keep before his parents took over and threw everything out. Even the pictures! This was his only reminder that she had ever existed. And it was ruined. Eric's fingers curled into a fist.

"You're dead now…"

rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeevvvvvvvvvvvvvvvviiiiiiiiiiiiiiiwwwwwwwwwwwwwww mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

I know you all just love cliffhangers! –runs before people decide to kill me-


	12. God's Crying

I feel really good, I've been keeping updates in a regular amount of time and everything! I would like to thank everybody for commenting, I stress this because some people still do not get it, I really do enjoy each one.

Chapter Twelve: God's Crying

It was in the air. Something big was going to go on tonight. Daley looked up to the sky as the drops of water hit her. It was as if God was crying for them. It seemed cliché at first but the more she thought it about, the more the rain seemed to fit with their desperate situation.

Jackson, Melissa, Taylor, Eric and Nathan were missing. Daley held back the urge to sob. Everything was falling apart. Everything was falling fucking apart!

"You can cry," A small voice told her.

Daley looked down to the source of the voice, looked down at her adopted brother. "No, I can't."

"I won't care Day. I know how strong you are, no need to prove it to me," Their relationship had grown. Lex didn't look at his sister the way he used to anymore. She wasn't some know-it-all who craved control. She was a young teenager needing stability that only she, herself could give. Daley had seen to many people give into the urge to be weak when she needed them to be strong. It was okay, Daley found shelter in herself.

"I can't, no," Daley's voice betrayed her, cracking under pressure.

Lex pretended it was rain dripping from his sister's face, rain and nothing more.

The punch came quick and sudden. Nathan fell to the ground in shock. "What the hell!"

Eric wanted this. Needed this. Finally, the person who had hurt him time and time again was on the ground. Hurt because of him. Nathan was his father, his father was Nathan. The one person holding Eric back from becoming a semi-decent person.

His leg swung out like the countless number of times he had kicked something that couldn't fight back. It had muscle behind it, a sickening cracking sliding through the air like a knife as it connected with Nathan's nose.

Tears stung Nathan's eyes but he refused to cry, only trying to bring himself up and fight back. He couldn't find the strength, it was too hidden behind the pain but his mouth was working fine.

"Killing me won't kill the hurt you feel, Eric," Nathan said, "Those walls you put up don't protect you from daddy, they only make it worse."

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" Eric shouted, not retaliating with the smart ass comeback he would have. A memory snaked through the rain and hit him with full force. His cheek stung as if his father had just hit him now and not a few months ago. He had hit him hard. Hard enough for him to end up in the hospital with broken bones.

Punches had always hurt. It's not like they get better with each passing moment but when your own father… the man that helped you into this world… Well, let's say it brought a whole new perspective to the saying, "I brought you into this world and I can take you out."

Eric felt the rain grow more steady as if God was finally recognizing what he had left rage on. God cried for him.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Melissa looked at the oncoming storm with mild worry. She was overlooking a cliff she had found recently. Only a few days ago. It seemed like forever. It was a high cliff, the ledge leading to an oblivion of swirling water and sharp rocks. First impact would most likely kill her.

"Please don't let this hurt," she whispered. She didn't know who she was pleading to, she only wished someone was listening. The rain felt nice, like sucking a breath mint after a particularly smelly dinner. If only the feeling was more persistent, erasing the feelings she was having completely.

"Don't. Please."

Melissa hardly heard the voice, chiding her to stop.

"Melissa, stop."

The voice struggled to find authority, it's shaken tone raspy with lack of use.

"Why should I?" she asked, more to herself than the voice. She took a step towards the ledge as if to say she meant business.

"Because I love you!"

Melissa shook her head. "I'm tired of everyone's pity! You don't love me you just don't want it on your conscious that you could have stopped me."

"That's not true!"

"Go back to fucking Taylor before that stupid cold of yours gets worse!"

"No! Melissa, please! I can't loose anyone else!"

Melissa took a deep breath and turned to the figure. "This is for you. All of you."

Jackson lost two people that night. Melissa… And his self.

His yell, the thunder, everything seemed dull compared to the grace of Melissa dropping off the ledge. A look of complete bliss on her face, challenging Jackson's own face. Twisted with guilt and sickness. He fell to the ground as it started to rain harder. It was almost like God was crying.


	13. The Aftermath

This chapter doesn't explain everything that happened in the last chapter so don't be disappointed. I wouldn't blame you if you were mad at how long I left you with a cliffhanger. I swear I didn't mean to. I rewrote this chapter like a dozen times and decided to make it into two. Ah, well. Thanks to all who commented and all to will. I love you all!

Chapter Thirteen: The Aftermath 

Jackson had no idea how long he had sat in the rain, curled up in fetal position. Crying. He couldn't bring himself to tell his friends where Melissa was. Only sobbing hysterically till the sadness brought on a cold darkness.

Lex couldn't figure out what was wrong with him. He pumped the older boy full of tea but Jackson puked it up. It had lasted long enough in his system to do its job but Jackson still wasn't getting anything in his stomach. 

His haggard look grew worse as days went by. Dark eyes always bloodshot, crying taking its toll. Jackson's thin frame was getting to the point where you could count his ribs. The stench of sickness and tea could be smelt throughout the camp like the feeling of death in a graveyard. 

Taylor was taking it worse. If that were even possible. She seemed to be coming down with something a little less dramatic than Jackson, running a quiet fever, without the knowledge of the others. It had been her fault, Taylor kept telling herself. Jackson's depression, Melissa's disappearance, everything! 

She looked at the sleeping boy who hadn't spoken a word since that rainy day. His features were haunted by a never ending nightmare, conflicted with his self-conscious. She wondered if he knew about Eric and Nathan. Nah, he couldn't have. 

Taylor looked over at Nathan, whose nose was a mixture of purples, yellows and greens. His dark skin lightened most of it but you could still see his pain. Nathan refused to talk about it, pretending his beaten frame was like it had always been, refusing to let Lex treat it. So, Nathan's nose went untreated, looking more crooked each day. 

Eric was angry. Those three words were the only way she could describe his behavior. He would flip out at trees or coconuts as if they had said something about his mother. If you spoke a word to the boy he'd scream, yelling swear words you've never heard before. She remembered when Daley made the mistake of touching him, a gentle touch on the shoulder.

Daley still had the bruises to show for it. 

Whenever Nathan or Eric came within seeing distance of each other, they would automatically go in the other direction. Refusing to look, see or speak to each other. If they were to work together on a job they would find a way to switch with one of the other castaways, whether it be double chore duty or cleaning up Jackson's puke. 

Everyone was falling apart. There was no Melissa to confide in. She had been their neutral one, taking in everyone's problems, without taking sides or sharing secrets. Jackson had been the person to tell them all when enough was enough. And now he couldn't even tell himself when that time was. 

Lex and Daley leaned on each other. Taylor had tried to pry them apart but that only ended in anger. All directed at herself. Finally, Taylor grew sick of it all. Finishing her chores quickly so she could talk to Jackson when she was done. He never answered back or even acknowledged her presence but she liked to pretend someone cared, even if they weren't even conscious. 

Taylor looked up at the sky, now sunny as if the storm had never happened. It made her angry, nothing permanent had happened, really. They had lost a tent, some food and the sand was soggy but there were no lasting effects. Lex had been wrong about how big it'd be or maybe they all just didn't give a fuck. Too engrossed in themselves to survey the damage truthfully. 

It didn't matter though. At least not to her. She let herself cry around Jackson but showed no emotions to the rest. She willed herself not to think of anything, knowing this would only bring guilt. Taylor knew she deserved it but wallowing in her sorrows like everyone else would lead to nothing. It wouldn't help anyone. 


	14. Living in Your Head

Chapter 13: Living in Your Head

Thanks to all who haven't given up on me yet!! Review me!!

Chapter 14: Living in Your Head

Jackson looked up at the blue tented ceiling, seeing nothing. The nothingness that had threatened to claim him since day one, being kept at bay by his struggles to keep going on. And the only reason he had wanted to go on was the feeling of being wanted. Melissa had given him that, made him feel like he didn't deserve to be sucked in by his consciousness, the nothingness.

What had he done to deserve that? More importantly, what had he done to repay her for it?

You fucking killed her, the sentence replayed bitterly inside his head.

I tried, his heart protested. Truthfully, he had. Jackson had shut off all the sarcasm, the openness, the personality that he actually had. In hopes that no one would become attached to him, die for him.

Julianna…

Melissa…

Congradu-fucking-lations Jackson, you managed to kill another person. Maybe, now, you'll get that you were meant to die that day. Julianna should be alive. You should be dead.

There are a lot of things in this world that should have happened. That doesn't mean you should go running around fixing everything that should have happened.

A tiny voice, the voice with a tiny waver of hope had spoken up.

Jackson was brought up, brought back into the real world. The colors, the smell, the sounds…

He puked.

"Oh god," Taylor moaned, scrambling up from her dazed crying session to assist the sick teen. He had finally managed to puke on himself, not given enough time or will power to throw his head to the side.

Puke had stopped sickening Taylor a long time ago, especially Jackson's. Considering his was mostly stomach fluids and tea, it had sustained a steady yellow color, much prettier than what Taylor had been recently puking. Greens and grays.

Taylor tried to get Jackson's thin wife beater over his head but failed miserably. He refused to let her touch him, shying away from her shaking hands like it held the plague itself.

"Jackson…."

He whimpered.

The first real sound she had heard in days.

"Jackson?" she asked, speaking with life. Speaking as though she were talking to a peer and not an animal, like she had been since Melissa's disappearance.

His knees curled up to his chin and his arms slapped themselves against his ears, now trying to escape her voice. He looked like a child in a teenager's body.

"Let me get your shirt off, it's covered in puke," she said more gently, inching towards the shivering boy.

Taylor got the fabric off slowly as if any sudden movement might set him off again. He allowed it.

She stared at him for a good minute, taking in his sunken stomach, the fine curve that went inwards as soon as his ribs stopped. It was gross, if not cruel but Taylor forced herself not to pay attention to it, focusing on the goose bumps appearing on his limbs. Something she could fix her and now.

"We need to get you a bath," she whispered, knowing now that her loud voice had hurt him. He had been living inside himself for longer than he could stand and now… He was back. With all his sanity, she didn't know. And personally, it didn't matter.


	15. He Speaks

Thanks for reviewing and all

Thanks for reviewing and all! Comments much loved. Anyone notice how I never disclaim this? Do you think DJ's gonna come with a wet noodle and hit my over the head? I don't know but for safety measures: I own nothing!!

Chapter 15: He Speaks

Taylor was waist deep in the cold ocean, cool sand rubbing up against the soles of her feet and the tickling sensation of something brushing past her was constantly there. She was getting used to the ocean by now. It wasn't a swimming pool. That was for sure.

Jackson shivered again, his body no longer belonging to him but the constant crash of shudders that invaded it. He wanted to help Taylor lag him over here but the strength he had before was gone. So instead, Eric had came along.

It was a bit surprising at first, why would Eric want to help anybody? Their confusion was set in stone when he showed affection towards the sickly teen, whispering soothing words and taking care to keep his head above water.

What had happened? Jackson paid no attention to it though, the water was a shock to his battered body and he wasn't sure he was up for it. He closed his eyes and took in a low breath, concentrating on Eric's meaningless words that didn't stop. They had turned into gibberish in Jackson's mind but he liked the way it sounded.

"You're fine Cody, fine. Stay with me. That's right, you're doing great."

Cody?

When had he heard that name before? Why did it seem so familiar?

"Eric?" Taylor asked, hearing the croak in her voice.

He didn't say anything, continuing to comfort the shivering teen in his arms.

"Why are you helping him?"

The voice got louder.

"You're going to be fine Cody, hang in there. Almost done. You'll feel clean after this, real clean."

Taylor's eyebrows drew together but she stayed silent. They all needed help out here, mentally more so than physically.

"It'll all be okay," Eric whispered, "It'll all be okay."

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

They helped Jackson into some clean clothes, his skin feeling hot underneath their fingertips, contradicting his shivers. He seemed better though, slowly pulling up his own jeans and trying stubbornly to get the shirt over his head.

"Let me help Jackson," Taylor pleaded, watching Jackson fall heavily to the ground in frustration. They sky was starting to swirl around him, echoing with a noise that sounded like "This is for you. All of you." It sounded like Mel.

Bile came with the name like it was attached to the memories. He gagged aloud, throwing himself on all fours and letting his insides fly into the sand, staining it like food coloring in water.

"You alright?" Taylor asked after he had finished.

What the hell do you think? I've been to hell and back wit this lousy bug and you're asking if I'm okay?! All Jackson could manage though was a small and unsure nod.

"Come on, you don't need a shirt, I guess," Taylor whispered, gathering the boy who still knelt on his knees and hands.

"No."

The voice was soft, raspy and raw. Like metal shavings and play doe, if that combination were possible.

He had spoken.


	16. Tragic Dates

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Thanks for reading! Don't forget to click the review button before leaving!!

Chapter 16: Tragic Dates

Nathan stared up at the sky. He wasn't sure why but he was unhappy. A simple emotion, at least as simple as this group got. He wasn't mad, sick or anything like that. Just unhappy.

A sharp pain sparked in his nose but he ignored it. It would never be the same again, crooked and imperfect. Did it bother him? Nathan didn't know.

"Hey."

A voice. Normal, confident.

"Hey Day."

She sat down next to him; the silence between them was natural. Unstrained. He liked Daley for that exact reason, she didn't care if he was chatting his face off or not even looking up when she said hi. She was simple, at least as simple as this group got.

"Guess what I found," she said after a few minutes, watching as a seagull flew dangerously close towards the swirling waters of the sea. It didn't seem bothered by the fact that it needed to risk its life every time it needed something as simple as food. Or maybe she was over thinking it so her thoughts didn't stray to a certain memory.

"A phone? Civilization? Maybe a pizza?" Nathan grinned, picking a stone up and hurling it at the bird. It flew up on instinct, watching as the stone sailed past where it had just been.

She ignored this gesture. "Melissa's hat. The one she was wearing before she disappeared."

"Where?"

"… Right near the edge of a cliff."

"Are you saying..?"

"Don't make me say it. I just thought I'd let you know. It stays between you and me though; I don't want Taylor or Lex knowing."

"Jackson?"

"I think he already knows."

Nathan looked past the sea, past the sunset, digesting this new piece of information. Why didn't he feel anything? You should be sad, depressed, something! It was like she never said anything. Melissa had been his friend; she had been everybody's friend.

"Why do you think she did it?" Nathan finally asked, thinking maybe if he dwelled on the topic long enough his body would force him to be sad.

"You really want to know?" she commented, sliding her hand into the cool sand underneath her.

"Tell me."

"Jackson," she admitted, letting the sand fall through her fingertips, "I don't know why. Maybe she lost hope in him… I just know it was for him, like a present or something."

Nathan's eyebrows drew together, "A present? What the hell, Day."

She looked up as if she just realized what she had said. "It was his birthday, Nathan. I figured everyone knew."


	17. Always Like This

Thanks for all the reviews

Thanks for all the reviews! I didn't know my centering carried over to the actual story or that it confused anyone lol. So I'll align left. Don't forget to click the review button before you leave!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter 17: Always Like This

Taylor glanced down at the sleeping boy. He didn't seem any better… But he didn't seem any worse. She closed her eyes, remember what had happened after the simple word escaped his throat.

Eric, who had been a few feet away, had gotten up and left leaving her alone to deal with the now speaking Jackson.

"No what?" she asked softly.

"Don't want to move," he said, coughing a bit to clear his voice. There wasn't any blood, like there had been in the beginning but the cough was deep and hoarse.

"You can't stay like that forever," she protested lightly.

"Watch me."

Taylor threw her hair from her face, a little frustrated. He had started talking, which was a good thing. He was even showing attitude, which was healthy right?

"Okay," she sighed, taking a seat next to him. Jackson sat up from his all-fours position, his body posture a little stiff.

Jackson looked up at the sky, his eyes whining silently at the brightness. He was exhausted but the pain in his chest had lessened… Or maybe he was getting used to it. He felt free, not having to be in that god awful tent filled with memories. Sure, he was still stuck on an island in the middle of nowhere but at least he wasn't being haunted by the voices of the dead.

"So how are you feeling?" Taylor asked, trying as hard as she could to avoid the biggest question. Where was Melissa? Did he know? Of course, he knew. She had gone over this already, if Melissa was actually still alive he would have told them a long time ago. No matter what the costs were.

Jackson was protecting her from the truth by staying silent… but in the process he was hurting his self. She could see the pain haunting his eyes, threatening to erupt if he moved too suddenly. And Taylor had a huge hunch that it had nothing to do with pneumonia.

Jackson shrugged. "Alright, I guess." He was avoiding her eyes.

Taylor was trying to but wasn't succeeding. She knew that was the last thing he wanted, someone staring at him, but she couldn't help it. Out of worry, Taylor wanted to know if he was truly alright. She knew he was hurting but she also wanted to see if she could read any other emotion other than pain.

He shivered, "Could I have that shirt now?"

Taylor handed him the white T with a smile, hoping the warmth radiating off of it could keep him warm.

She only needed to give him a little assistance with getting it over his head but he managed the rest, throwing himself onto the sand tiredly after he had finished.

"Do you think we're always going to be like this?" Jackson asked, darkness started to envelop his vision.

"Be like what?" Taylor asked faintly, feeling tired herself. Sleep wasn't something that came easily anymore. Dark bruises coming to stay stubbornly underneath all the survivors eyes. She laid next to him, making sure she didn't touch him. Sick or not, he liked his personal space.

"This," Jackson said, "Living like this. Living like it's been a great day if no one came to blows over the stupidest things. Living like it's lucky that when we wake up in the mornings we hadn't been woken up by the sound of a friend screaming in their sleep."

His voice broke off.

Taylor thought his words over carefully, fighting off the sleepiness. "No. We'll get rescued."

Jackson turned over, finally meeting her full-blown in the eyes. "Do you really believe that?"

She stared at his eyes, seeing the pain, the anger… the guilt. It was almost too much.

"No."


	18. Taylor's Break

I broke my ankle the other day

I broke my ankle the other day. Not a fun experience lol. For all of those who have broken legs, ankles, feet, ect. I salute you. Crutches suck major eggs. Yeah, I said eggs… My arms hurt, I guess that's why I've been avoiding the computer but I need to face it sooner or later. I think I'm getting a cold too… Well enough complaining, I'll leave that to the F29D crew.

Chapter 18: Taylor's Break

Taylor got up, brushing imaginary dust from her white shorts. Her legs felt cramped from sitting in one position for so long. As she stood she felt the tiny pins and needles sprinkle across her calves but ignored it.

Jackson was still sleeping, his face about as peaceful as his face would allow. Taylor smiled at the sight of it but immediately frowned at the realization of what she did. She told the one boy who needed hope that she had none. What the hell was that going to do to him?

"Daley!" Taylor shouted suddenly. She shouted twice more before the frizzy redhead appeared, a slightly annoyed look on her face.

"Yes?" Daley asked, her voice swinging from high to low in a manner that told Taylor she had been busy.

"I need you to watch Jackson while I take a break," Taylor winced at the word 'break', knowing she was going to get a major lecture about it but didn't take it back.

As Taylor expected Daley opened her mouth slowly, the annoyance in her eyes doubling. But she cut her off. "Thanks! I knew you'd say yes!"

Taylor sprinted off before Daley realized what had happened.

Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiil

Taylor stripped herself of most of her clothing, leaving herself in the bikini she had worn since the day they crashed. It smelt rank but she didn't complain.

She was a good distance away from camp; the only sounds were her arms slapping the water's surface as she swam around leisurely. Taylor did feel bad about ditching Jackson but at this moment, right here… She just wanted to close her eyes and let the water claim her. Not in the suicidal way! No, nothing like that.

"Only freaks do that," Taylor muttered aloud. She just wanted something to pull her along without her consent. Without the effort she needed to put forth everyday. Was that so much to ask for? Maybe it was…

Taylor let herself float along the surface, letting her body shut down and ride the waves. Just blackness and constant but gentle swaying was the only thing her body processed.

In till something grazed her foot.

She shrieked at first, the story Eric had told the first night about shark catching up with her. Taylor opened her eyes, ignoring the salt water that stung her eyes. It was a hat.

"Oh my God," Taylor breathed, feeling stupid. She picked the straw hat up with interest, wondering who it belonged to.

When the owner of the hat's face finally surfaced in her memory, Taylor threw the hat away in shock. Melissa…

She looked around, expecting Melissa to suddenly appear with a smile on her face. Nothing came.

"What did you do Mel?" Taylor whispered softly, looking up at the sky. The loud clap of thunder made her jump in the water. She swore the sky was clear when she set out…


	19. Another Storm, Another Broken Soul

I wouldn't have been able to write this chapter without this song

I wouldn't have been able to write this chapter without this song. /watch?v0cdp-rOFtQ

Thanks for putting up with me!! Review when you get around to it! itches leg Ahhh it itches!!

Chapter 19: Another Storm, Another Broken Soul

Eric looked down at Taylor, a faint smile on his face. She was swimming peacefully; the worry lines etched on her face were gone for once. He really did love her. At least, that's what it felt like.

His legs were brought up near his quivering chin, the orbs of his eyes glossy with unshed tears. Eric was in a state of uselessness. Everyone needed help in some area. What could he do? Sit here and wallow in the things he'd never have. Like Taylor. She, just like Melissa, was head over heels in love with Jackson.

He wasn't jealous. No, that wasn't it at all. At least… Eric bit his lip. Recognizing emotions was getting harder and harder. Anger had a distinct color, red to be exact. But the other emotions were mixed. Swirling shades of greens and blues. Pinks and purples. He didn't know anymore. He couldn't be jealous though! As much as he used to hate admitting it, Jackson… Cody was his friend.

Cody could understand what he was going through.

His eyes slid close and a memory flitted through his mind. It was composed of a room. Eric's room to be exact. A younger form of him was hiding under the covers of his dirty bed. It was obvious where he was, the shivering was a dead give away. Drunken yells of his father moaned throughout the house, sounding more and more like an animal.

"Where are you Eric?"

"Don't hide from your father."

Eric let out a whimper, not realizing it was the present and not the past. He gasped as something cold hit his shoulders.

"It's rain, you idiot. Rain!" Eric scolded himself. He looked back down at Taylor from the cliff he was sitting over. She was gone.

He got up, wondering absently how Cody was doing. He was edging towards insanity, afraid of his voice, afraid of living to be exact. Eric couldn't stand hearing the voice, curled and broken with hurt and fear. Thank God, he hadn't reached that point yet.

"God," Eric laughed out, chokingly. If there really was something up there why did it let things like this happen.

"What the hell did I do to deserve this? What the hell did Cody do!?" Eric shouted out as lightening zipped across the sky. He knew he should get out of such a high place, the likelihood of getting struck by the bright zigzag increased.

"If you're really up there God, why aren't you helping us?! Mel was perfect…," Eric dropped down to a broken whisper, "You took her away from us. You took our hope. There's nothing left for me to go back to. Just a drunken Dad and the memory of a dead sister."

Her face was like a dagger being slid into his heart. That short blond hair, cut messy like he, himself. She used to wear that old hat all the time to hide how bad her haircut was. Never would she admit how horrid it looked though, insisting Eric had done a good job.

He had wanted to take her to a professional. He really did. But dad spent the money. Two guesses on what and no, it's not food. She had kept that grin on her face all that time, even as she sucked in those last breaths.

"Forgive him, forgive me," she had choked out, blood splattering his cheeks as he leaned in to hear her. He had stroked her imperfect hair lovingly in till the ambulances ripped her from his arms.

Why had she needed forgiveness? What could she have possibly done?!

"She was fucking eight! Eight God damn it!" the cold sensation was back. He turned his head to see a white hand resting on him.

Taylor wrapped him in his arms, whispering, "It'll all be okay. It'll all be okay."


	20. The Fight

I meant Emotionless by Good Charlotte… In case people were confused

I meant Emotionless by Good Charlotte… In case people were confused. Anyone woken up by the earthquake last night? Lol, I couldn't get back to sleep so I wrote an update. Dedicated to We Believe by Good Charlotte. They're my new obsession right now.

Chapter Twenty: The Fight

"If someone what have walked up to you a month ago and told you this is what you would have been doing, would you have believed them?" Nathan asked, grumpily. They all sat scrunched together in Jackson's tent, shivering with the cold and tempers rising.

"Probably not," Taylor sighed. She was leaning on Eric's shoulder, knowing he wanted someone to touch right now. This wasn't exactly how she wanted to spend her Friday night but at least they were all here. Together. Taylor had made sure they all were with each other, not wanting a repeat of the last storm.

"Do you think their still looking for us?" Lex said, saying what was on everyone's mind. Jackson looked to Taylor, wondering if she would give the same response she gave him.

She bit her lip, hoping someone else would answer.

"'Course they are Lex."

The voice belonged to Daley. She was still mad at Taylor for ditching her but proved to still be in a good mood for everyone else.

"I mean, we're a bunch of kids. No way would they stop looking."

"Yeah but it's not like we're all a bunch of rich kids with important parents." Eric spoke out, surprising Taylor.

"Don't say that!" Daley shrieked at him. The tension in the air thicken.

"I'm only telling him the truth Day! He needs to know! He probably already knew!"

"Shut up Eric. Since when do you care about him anyways?" Daley said coldly.

"I've always cared! You just don't fucking notice because you're too busy with yourself!" Eric shouted, wanting to stand up but the tent ceiling was too low.

"Guys just drop it." Nathan.

"No you drop it! Your not in this Nathan, why aren't you ever on my side?! Defend your girlfriend you jerk!" Daley cried, pointing an accusing finger at him.

"Don't' snap at me! I didn't do anything!"

"You're right, you didn't! You just sit there and let people at me!"

"That's not true!"

"You start so many fights, he's just tired of standing up for you!" Eric laughed meanly.

"Eric, no…," Taylor said vaguely. They didn't need another fight. Not again.

"Don't you 'Eric no' me! I'm not 5!"

"Shut up all of you," Jackson finally spoke up but was too quiet for everyone to hear.

"Oh so that's what I get for being nice to you!" Taylor screamed, crawling out of the tent. Eric followed.

"Hey! We weren't done!" Daley cried, getting out with Nathan on her tail.

Lex looked at Jackson with a clouded look but followed the rest of them out of the tent.

The rain was letting up outside, the sun almost in view but the yells still filled the air.

"No, fuck you!"

"It's your fault we're even here in the first place!"

"Yeah 'cause I crashed the plane!"

Nathan hit first, getting revenge on Eric for his broken nose. They went tumbling down in a blur of fists with all intention of hurting the other fatally.

"Nathan!"

"Eric!"

The girls dropped down to try and stop them but only got hit themselves.

"What the hell! Did you hit me?" Daley shrieked, holding her bruised arm close to her.

"No!" Taylor said, trying to get the boys off each other.

"You did you little bitch!" They fought less respectably than the boys. Nails out and eyes gleaming.

Lex only stared in awe at his adopted sister and friends. What was happening? Jackson didn't seem to be the unhealthy one here, maybe the sickness was something far more twisted than a simple cold.

"EVERYONE SHUT THE HELL UP!" the voice was hoarse and frail, a loud high pitch wailing noise following close behind it. The flare went up into the clouds, exploding in the sky before their eyes.

Everyone was frozen for solid minute. Their ears trying to react to the new noise they were hearing. It sounded unreal, like something in a dream. It wasn't in till Lex finally said it did they believe their ears.

"Helicopter."

Ghhhhhhhhhhhhhesrfewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwdssssssssssssssssss

So are they recused?! Hehe, you'll soon find out!


	21. Nine Minutes of Hell

Anyone notice how my first sentence is copied right above me

Anyone notice how my first sentence is copied right above me? I don't do it on purpose… IT'S WITCHCRAFT!! Oh yes and Watched 2 much TV, I'm glad you still have hope in her. Don Pianta (hope I spelt that right): I know isn't she?! I just watched an episode last night and the last thing Daley would is start a fight lol. Oh well, I like the new Day. More backbone! !smiles! Girlyworld95: Answer to your pm: I'm still inhumanly obsessed with him. And Pete Wentz… And Jared Leto… OMG and Gerard Way. And a bunch of other guys… I'm going to shut up now and give you guys the chapter. Which is by the way, my favorite.

Chapter Twenty: 9 Minutes of Hell

Melissa's mother bit her lip, feeling the familiar taste of blood spread along her scabbed-over lips. The news was broken earlier that morning, around the time where people are still sleeping. 4AM to be exact. It didn't matter though.

She still felt like she was walking on clouds, she still thought it was a dream like all the other times she imagined this happening. Survivors of Flight 29 were found. Nine. Nine people were found and alive. One in critical condition. Two deprived of food and water. One with severe head trauma, incurable. The rest had minor injuries. She had also heard one looked Asian. Her heart soared.

"My daughter's coming back," She breathed, the tears starting to come back to her eyes. Now usually the tears burned with regret and depression. These were happy, hopeful. Melissa's mother had no doubts her daughter was alive.

So here she sat with the other parents of the Flight 29 group. They all had the same things on their mind: My child is alive. It didn't matter that they only found nine people, the parent were in denial that only nine of their thoughts were actually right.

Someone burst into tears suddenly. "I need to see him! I need to see him!" The mother cried as a stranger put their arm around them. They were pulling together. Everyone here had lost someone for the last month and a half. Everyone had felt the blow of the loss.

"Shh, it's alright. They said they're releasing the survivors in 10 minutes, we can wait that much longer," the stranger comforted the distressed woman. Everyone's eyes fell to the clock, watching in angst as the thin line met with the number twelve. 9 more minutes left.

"I lost two of them though! Two! Do you now how small a chance there is that both of them are alive?!" the woman sobbed louder.

Ouch, Melissa's mother thought. How much would it hurt if none of that woman's children were alive? She shook her head, she shouldn't think of things like that. Bad karma.

The parents continued to glare at the clock, wishing time would go faster. Ignoring the sobs of the woman so they too, wouldn't break down. That was the key. If they thought they're child was alive they wouldn't be sad. So no tears, no death. At least that's the way they were looking at it.

"8 minutes."

She could see her daughter's smile. White and bright with the thought of knowing she was her mother's everything. Melissa was alive. Alive!

"7 minutes."

The sound of the crying mother turned into hic-uped breaths and whimpers. Someone was praying in a harsh whisper, feverishly.

"6 minutes."

The banging sound of something hitting metal made everyone jump and squeal.

"Sorry," a man whispered, his cheeks burning. He held up a Coke and pointed to the vending machine. "Thirsty."

"5 minutes."

Melissa's mother couldn't take it anymore. She stood up and headed for the bathrooms. It was there where she allowed the happy tears to finally fall down her cheeks. She looked into the mirror, taking in the dark smudges underneath her eyes. Lack of sleep, lack of hope, lack of love all led to the bags. Her skin was pulled tight across her cheeks because she felt guilty every time she ate. What if Melissa was dying right now of starvation? No way could she bring food to her lips.

"4 minutes," she said aloud after glancing at her wristwatch. Throwing water over her face, Melissa's mother turned for the door to join the impatient parents.

FGGGGGGGGGGGGTHYREDSSSSSSSSSSSSSEFRGTYRHHHHHHHHHHHHWWWWWWWW

Daley's mother sniffed again, watching as the Asian woman stalked towards the bathroom. The face was familiar but she couldn't place whose mother it was. At that moment the doors leading deeper into the hospital swung open.

A teenager stood there, her eyes slanted to look exactly like her mother. Almond-shaped and dark. She was slim like she hadn't eaten properly in a while. A gash stood above her eyebrow, stitched grossly and painfully.

"Where's my mom?" she asked anxiously, her voice high pitched and shrill. Unable to contain her excitement.

"You're earlier," someone muttered but didn't answer her question.

Daley's mother stood up though, "I think she's in the bathroom."

"Thanks," the girl nodded and headed for the bathrooms.

FGDFSGREFWRQEQWDSFDVBRGHYUJUYTYYYYYYYYYYYHEFWRWQEWEQWDWEFER

Melissa's mother tried to open the door, surprised that it resisted as if someone else was pulling on it. "What the hell?"

"Stop pulling," a girl's voice told her.

She stopped. "Melissa?"

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

I'm evil. I know. It's my favorite chapter!! And it's quite long considering my usual length. Thanks for reading, don't forget to review.


	22. Unexpected Homecomings

Sorry I took so long to update

Sorry I took so long to update! I really didn't mean to leave you with that so long. Not gonna say anything else… Breaking Benjamin- Here We Are

Chapter Twenty One: Unexpected Homecomings

There's always someone who reacts completely different to situations like these. Eric's dad was one of them. He watched in amusement as a mother received the crushing blow of mistaking her daughter for someone else.

"No, I'm Abby," the girl said insistently than turned suddenly pale as she realized the situation. She bit her lip, feeling awkward. Melissa's mother had mistaken her for Melissa. They didn't look too alike but their features were bluntly common. Slanted eyes, dark hair.

"I-I'm sorry," she managed but couldn't really think of much else to say.

Melissa's mother only stared at her, mouth slightly open and arms dangling at her sides uselessly. Her eyes were dead, unemotional as if Abby's face alone made her die. Abby didn't blame her. She had seen all of the survivors. None of them included Melissa.

GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHDDDDDDDDDDDDEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Daley clutched her little brother's hand tightly, counting down the seconds that they would be released. Only seconds remained in till they were able to see their mother's face light up the happiness that they were both still alive. And in a hell of a better mental state.

She was only partly there as Lex led her down the hall. Closer to their mother. Remembering Jackson as he shot the flare in the sky. The only thing he knew would shut them up. He had no idea that someone had spotted it and went down to help. Chance had gotten them all stuck there and chance had gotten them all rescued.

"Daley!" The voice was loud. Shrill. As if the emotional in it was spilling over like a shaken pop can.

Long thin arms wrapped around her. The familiarity of the skin against her was breath-taking to say the least. Daley felt the tears come down as she buried herself into her mother.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Lex.

"Nothing to be sorry for," the step-mother sobbed as she turned to give her adopted son a hug too.

"I hated you. You still loved me though. I'm sorry," Lex stuttered, he too, cried. But for a different reason.

They gathered each themselves into each other, feeling the world fall beneath them. Leaving them in the white, pure abyss their closeness gave them. Everything would be okay now. Daley was sure.

WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHHHHHHHHHHHH

Taylor shifted in her seat, feeling the effects of the cold medicine take it's toll. Felt her limbs get sluggish and clumsy, her mouth grow heavy and her eyes droop. It didn't matter that she wanted to sleep, she would see her mother and father. Have to face the guilt.

Would they know what their daughter had done? Did they know how _unclean _she was? Taylor shuddered in her own skin. She wasn't the rich perfect girl anymore. She was sick and polluted by the scent of people below her. Would they know automatically that she was in love with a kid who might as well be homeless? Did they know she had gotten down with the dogs and held a weeping boy whose parents hated him? Would they shun her?

Sure, she wanted to be rescued. It was a thought that needed to be there. Like going under water, you knew you would have to come up for air at some point. It didn't matter that she wasn't ready, she would face them. Now or never.

Jackson had taught her she needed to face them now or have the thoughts of what could have been tear her apart. Taylor stood up slowly, heading for the door with fake cheeriness. She could do this. She would do this.

"Taylor!" the voice hurt her ears. It was too happy. Too artificial. Too much like her mother.

Two pairs of arms wrapped around her body, enveloping in something that was supposed to be reassuring but only made her skin crawl. These people made her into the person she hated. Made her into the thing who had no heart up in till so recently.

"You're so skinny!" "And your hair!" "Look at what you're wearing!"

"Nothing that can't be fixed," Taylor's voice was soft.

They pulled away from her. "What's wrong baby?"

"A bit shocked is all." The tears sprang up, she silently cursed them. No! No! No! A sob raked her body as she fell to the floor. She wanted Jackson. She wanted the island. She wanted something that wasn't her old self.

Her parents went down on the girl like monsters on their victims. Arms out for another hug, more love that wasn't real. They didn't love their daughter, no more than they loved their cell phones. Only putting up the act for the news reporter in the corner. Taylor continued to cry.

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFGGGGGGGGGGGGGGWWWWWWXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The hard, calloused hands of his father gently stroked his hair. It made his chest tighten like an asthma victim, tear-up like a broken cheerleader. Home sweet home.

"How was your vacation?" Eric's father asked, kissing his son's cheek softly. Letting the lips stay a few centimeter's from his ears. "I missed you."

"Good." It was forced. Restrained in a way. All the things he wanted to say were caught up in his heart. Going back to the olds ways where saying anything out of line only meant more pain. He was good now. He wouldn't be when they were alone.

All the recovery, the steadiness he had gained from Taylor disappeared. Scared like he had been, the first day he had realized it wouldn't help. Wouldn't save him.

There was a tug on his hair which was slightly longer than it had been before the plane crash. "Why are you still alive?" It was a simple question. One that Eric didn't know the answer to either. Why was he still alive? Why wasn't he floating in the water with Melissa, letting the watery sea protect him from the clutches of his father. He didn't know. But it was all too tempting to change that.

RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTYYYYYYYY

Not all the homecoming are here. New chapter soon!! Oh yes and a big cookie to Don for guessing what happened. Really nice and _define _thinking.


	23. NotSoWarm Welcome

Sorry, this took me longer than expected

Sorry, this took me longer than expected. Just didn't feel like writing I guess. If you noticed, I changed the title and summary. I should have done that last chapter. We're still getting down with the sickness though, so the title stays, of course. For any of you who don't know that's a song… I think its by Disturbed, at least the version I like is. Thanks for reading, don't forget to review. If we make it to 100, I have a reward for yous!!

Chapter Twenty Two: Not-So-Warm Welcomes

Russell looked up at the ceiling, not too sure of what he was seeing. The ins and outs of his vision were less reliable than he felt was imaginable. What had happened? Why couldn't he remember much more than starting a flight to Guam?

"You awake?" A voice asked softly, it was broken and sore from what he presumed to be sobs. Who was this person?

"Yeah," He was surprised his own weakness in voice. What was wrong with him?

"Honey how are you feeling?"

"Honey? Who the hell are you?"

He tried to focus on them, finally seeing a woman in her mid-thirties with her brown hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. Her eyes were bloodshot and dark with worry but confident none the less. She seemed familiar in a way, like seeing a stranger for the second time.

"The doctors warned me about this," She said, "I'm your wife Jack."

Well, shit.

NNNNNNNNNNNNNMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMLLLLLLLLLKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKEEEEEEE

Jory pushed her short dark hair from her face, sighing deeply. She was happy she was home, really she was but there was something in her dreading it. Never had she been a popular girl. Jory could still see the jeers of her student body laughing at her in a dress last year. She knew she wasn't skinny… Like Taylor… Or Abby for that matter. It was painful fact but couldn't they get past it? _Can't you? _

"Jory! Oh, we're so glad your home!" Her mother petted her hair, trying hard not to show her OCD but failing.

Nothing had changed. "Stop it Mom." Jory whined, her cheeks turning red. _No one notices. No one sees. _

"I haven't seen you in so long Jor'! I thought you were dead!" The stroking was starting to hurt.

"Mom!" she cried, struggling. Her father managed to get the two off one another with an expressionless face.

"Glad you're back Jory."

_So am I. _

GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHJJJJJJJJJJZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZCCCCCCCCCCC

Ian looked down at his mangled leg, wondering faintly if it really mattered. Did anything really matter? His supply had run out days ago, his body shaking with withdrawal. He never wanted to quit, yet on the island he was forced to.

Mom and Dad hovered over him, prodding him with questions every few minutes, unsure of what to do. They were new at this whole parenting things, letting him go from here to there without much worry. But since his disappearance and false claim of death, they decided that maybe their parenting styles needed a major tune-up.

Ian didn't know this but felt the difference in his father's hug immediately. He didn't care much for that either but remembered to watch out for them the next time he was high. Sifting his interests to a whole thing, a girl to be exact. He smiled faintly at the sight of her. The unexpected girl of his dreams. Jory.


	24. Confrontation

Hmm, listening to The Used

Hmm, listening to The Used. Kick ass band. You should all check them out. Anyways, here's your update. Happy Cinco De Mayo.. something like that.

Chapter Twenty Three: Confrontation

He turned on his bed, hating the feeling of the plastic mask digging into his flesh. He was home. Or as close to home as he'd ever get. Jackson didn't know what to feel, didn't want to feel. The doctor took one look at him and had given him those eyes. Pity. Fucking pity.

In other words: You're going to die.

Jackson wanted nothing more than to prove him wrong… But he didn't have the strength. Or the motivation for that matter. What was the point in living when there was nothing to live for?

_As soon as you get better you'll be in a boy's home again. You're going to be that freak whose girlfriend's dead. Who hurts everyone he touches. Is that what you want? _

"No, no," Jackson shook his weakly, wanting to cry. He didn't mean to, he had tried!

Pushing the covers off, he tried to stand up. A shiver ran up his legs and bit his heart.

_Where do you think you're going? Ha! If you even make it to the door where do you think you can go_

"Shut up," Jackson grunted, plucking off the IV and other assorted needles. He was almost to the door when suddenly it opened.

"Cody Jackson?"

There stood a short, stout woman. Her eyes were blood-shot like she had just finished crying but a small unconfident smile laid on her face.

"That's me."

"I was… Uh… Coming to ask you something," She bit her lip, suddenly reminding him of somebody he didn't want to remember.

"What?"

"I was hoping to, uh, ask you about my daughter. All the err, survivors told me you could tell me about her."

_Well, you're going to get it now. Go on, tell her Cody. Tell her who you killed. _

"What do you want to know?"

"What happened."


	25. Questioning The Murderer

Chapter Twenty Four:

Thanks for reading! Review please!! Thanks for getting me past 100!! You are all sooooo awesome.

Chapter Twenty Four: Questioning The Murderer

She thought she was ready to hear it. She had readied herself in the bathroom, looking herself in the mirror, studying her features. _You can do this. _Susan had all the bravery in the world in her small body… In till she opened the door.

Every feeling in her was stripped from her body expect for pity. The boy in front of her was hooked up with noisy machines, a plastic mask clamped on his face, sucking at his features like a leech. He used to be handsome but not anymore. The emotions in his gray-green eyes overwhelmed her. None of them were happy.

Susan struggled to put on her smile, the one she had practiced in the mirror. She knew how awkward she looked.

"Cody Jackson?" she asked weakly, the name wasn't bringing up the bitterness anymore. Her first confrontation with name was anything but pity. Nathan, Melissa's best friend had said that it was all this 'Jackson' guy's fault. He had put him out to be an easy hate-able person. This was… Not the person she expected.

"That's me," a soft voice. Broken. Like someone had pressed the play button on him too many times and he was starting to wear thin.

"I was…Uh… Coming to ask you something," Susan admitted, feeling suddenly ashamed. _What are you doing? Bugging a sick kid for questions about your daughter? _

"What?" It was a sad voice, like he knew this was coming… And he dreaded it.

"I was hoping to, uh, ask you about my daughter. All the err, survivors told me you could tell me about her." She felt dirty, cruel. Like she was kicking a baby. _You have a right to know, he shouldn't be acting like this if he didn't have anything to hide! Ask! _

"What do you want to know?" He asked, making his way back to his hospital bed. She didn't linger on why he wasn't in his bed.

"What happened." It was simple; she just needed to rip her heart out. She could do this.

He hung his head, as if expecting to be scolded for something. "It's a long story. You might want to sit down."

"I'll stand." She felt like that was the only thing she had control over.

"Well," He looked all over, anywhere but her face. "I don't really know where to start."

She couldn't take it anymore! "_Just tell me how my daughter died!" _

He looked a little surprised by her outburst but who could blame him? She had flipped out over a simple statement. _Calm down. Calm down! _

"She, uh, jumped off a cliff," It was quiet. Almost inaudible. But she had heard it loud and clear.

"What?" She wanted to hear it again.

"She committed suicide." Jackson hated the way it tasted in his mouth. It sounded as if she had done some kind of a crime, like stealing. Like she should be grounded for her actions. _Too bad there's nothing to ground. _

"H-how could t-this hap-happen?" Susan stuttered. Not Melissa! Not her! Anybody but her! She closed her eyes, seeing her bright eyes full of happiness. No! She wouldn't take her own life! "Not my daughter!"


	26. Being There For Your Kid

Chapter Twenty Five: Taking the Blame

Chapter Twenty Five: Being There For Your Kid

"It's all my fault," they said at the same time.

Jackson gave her a confused look, "You don't know the whole story."

Susan shook her head, "I don't need to know the whole story to know it's my fault."

They stared at each other for what seemed like ever. He liked her eyes, how confident they looked even though she had just finished crying and she had just figured out her daughter was dead. It said a lot about her character.

Jackson smiled as he broke the staring contest first than frowned slightly. What the hell was he doing? Smiling?! It felt good actually, stretching a muscle that hadn't been used in so long.

"That looks nice," she told him.

"What?"

"Your smile. I have a feeling you don't do it often," Susan stepped forward and sat on the bed carefully, "Could you tell me what happened? While you were on the island, I mean."

Jackson shrugged but started speaking. It got easier with the more he said. Explaining how his sickness had torn apart the group, how he had kissed Taylor accidentally. How Melissa's death had been one big fucking misunderstanding.

Susan didn't so much as flinch at the sound of the 'f' word. Only nodding and patting his back at the appropriate moments. The doctor had came in at one point but he had stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of Jackson talking. Letting someone touch him.

He sat and waited, not so much as listening to the conversation but soaking in the fact that maybe all the survivors would be okay. Maybe Susan would move on eventually. After all… It had been her fault her daughter had died in the first place.

HGHHHHHHHHHHHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGH

"Ian, you look sick," his mother said, eyeing her son with mock worry. She was actually more worried about her coffee spilling as she bent down to kiss him.

He was sitting in the hospital, staring at the ceiling. The doctor had told him he could go home on crutches the next day but they wanted to make sure he was okay for now.

"I'm fine Mom," Ian answered, licking his lips painfully. He needed his high! Now! Now! Now! He was having a tantrum within his head, keeping a calm face on the outside. While on the inside his brain was reeking havoc on his body.

Literally telling him that if he couldn't get the drugs, it would rip him apart.

"Well that's good! Didn't want to add more money to the hospital bill now did we?" She patted his head like his was a dog, "I have to go, Dad'll stay a bit longer but than we'll be here tomorrow to pick you up. Sound good?"

Ian didn't have a chance to answer, only watching his mother as she almost sprinted out the room.

"Bye."


	27. Hey Dad I'm Gay

Chapter Twenty Six: Hey Dad I'm Gay

Chapter Twenty Six: Hey Dad I'm Gay

Sometimes it takes a hard-core experience that puts your life in danger to figure out who you want to fuck.

Nathan laughed at the thought of this. The sentence seemed absurd to most people but… The grounds of this statement applied to him. Surprisingly. Nathan thought he had crashed on this island wanting to get in Daley's pants but talking with Eric. Meeting Jackson. Even discussing with Lex about the working schedules had changed him.

He was gay.

Or at least bi. Nathan didn't know the proper term. Didn't want to really. He had never really thought badly of gay people. No, he had accepted that some people just didn't like girls. But he never thought that term would apply to him. He never thought would be looking at _him _with disgust. Never!

Did it change him? Actually… It didn't. Nathan still felt like Nathan. Only… It was like he was wearing a different shirt. A shirt he thought everyone would notice and laugh at as soon as they saw it. He thought it's be like wearing a shirt that said, "I'm gay!"

But it wasn't.

Daley still smiled at him when his parents came to take him. His parents still greeted him with enthusiasm. And that was something! Nathan knew his father wouldn't tolerate something like that living underneath his roof.

Nathan looked away from the window he was peeking out of. They were driving home in the rain. Like nothing had happened. Like he had missed his bus again and they came to pick him up. Nothing out of the ordinary.

The rain was picking up, getting harder and more precise. It wasn't as fierce as the island storms (nothing was) but it was damn-near close. The splatters it made on the car window were undefined, almost disappearing into the wind as soon as they touched the cold glass. He liked it, almost like art that could never quite be captured by photographs.

"Nathan are you listening?" It was his mother's voice. She was nice. That's how Nathan described her. Stacey had never been perfect. Never the one who packed lunches with little notes of 'I love you's hidden in the pouches. Never been the one who volunteered for everything under the sun.

But she was nice.

She did what every good parent was supposed to do, nothing more, and nothing less. Which was okay with Nathan. He had never cared for the meddling parents or people like Eric's. Eric…

Nathan licked his lips. Seeing the light leave Eric's eyes as his father got up to hug him. It was almost enough to make someone cry. Or laugh. Pick your weapon.

"Yeah I am," Nathan finally answered his mother.

"Than what did I just say?"

"You got me," Nathan smiled a fake smile. He could feel the sweat starting to form on his upper lip. Did she know? Could she tell that he was gay now?

"I asked if you wanted counseling, honey. An experience as vivid as you went through couldn't have been easy," she shifted her mirror so she could see him without turning around.

His father weaseled his way into the conversation. "My boy doesn't need that crap! That's for girls and emos. You're alright… right?"

Nathan smiled again, the same unreal smile. "Sure Dad, I'm great."

"See Stacey?" His father said proudly, "He's fine."


	28. Diary Entries

Chapter Twenty Six: Hey Dad I'm Gay

I'm glad most of you are okay with Nathan's 'turning point'. As for the people who aren't… sorry, I guess. You're not going to get the full effect of the story if you're not comfortable with it.

ANYWAYS! Thanks to all those who read! I love you guys, even if you don't love me… -smiles- Sorry if my updates were lagging, writers block is a witch. New update is here, comment when you get a chance:

Chapter Twenty Seven: Diary Entries

The house was the same as it always had been. The inside was clean and sparkling; looking like no one lived in it. Let alone a teenager. Taylor's room was empty though. She had asked about this and got no response from her father.

"We thought you were dead, honey. I wanted to put a work-out room in it," her mother was blunt about it though. As if Taylor wasn't supposed to care that they had gotten over the loss of her so fast.

It hurt… But she knew homecoming would be something like this. So, she decided to settle in her room, ignoring the elliptical machine blocking her computer. It didn't matter. She was home. She was supposed to be happy, not upset that her parents had moved some things around. Change was good right? That had been what she wanted.

Taylor dropped her hand to search the bottom of her mattress. It was still there. She smiled and gave the small book a tug to get it out. The composition notebook had remained where it was, undisturbed.

A pen had been shoved near the end of the pages, its cap missing and the top of it bitten. It was hers. Something she could spill her heart out to and not get a reaction to.

Taylor opened to one of pages she had scribbled in and met eyes with a doodle of a boy. It wasn't bad actually, you could tell it was male. A teenager with short hair and wearing a hood. A book was clamped in his hands. Jackson.

He was smiling, though it looked cheesy in her journal, like it wasn't supposed to be there. A faded frown that looked like someone tried to erase it was hidden in the background. Taylor remembered drawing him with a frown but hadn't liked it. If this was her diary, she'd draw him how ever she wanted.

_He's going to Guam with us. Isn't that great? I can't wait; I'm going to be away from __**them**__._ She had scratched out the word parents. She wasn't sure if they red it or not and didn't want to take the chance. _And, of course, I'll be on an island! What's not to like? My parents are making me pack loads but whatever. I'll just loose it all on the flight back. They'll blame the school, not me. I wanted Jackson to sit next to me. I mean, I want to get to know him so bad! Is he as cool as the rumors made him out to be? If he was, he will be mine! _

_Melissa wants him too. She's an accident waiting to happen, that girl. She's such a bleeding heart! I was with her at the pound this one time because she had lost her dog. She came out with FIVE! others. None of which were the one she had wanted intentionally. It's cool though, Melissa is so shy. He'll never want her… _

_If the rumors are true. I have to go pack, I'll write some more later. _

It wasn't her last entry but it was close to the end. Tears welled in her eyes at the thought of Melissa though. She had been so mean to her! And now she's dead.


	29. Perfection Is In the Eyes of the Beholde

Longer than most chapters

Longer than most chapters. It's also an Eric one! Woo! And I update regularly. I'm so proud!!

Read and review!!

Chapter Twenty Seven: Perfection Is In the Eyes of the Beholder

Sometimes it's best to just shut up. It was simple. At least in Eric's opinion, it was. Sometimes it doesn't matter how right you are, you can't win the argument. Don't go down fighting because you might not get back up.

He had learned that a long time ago. Before the island and even school.

Their dad had always been angry. Even when she was alive. It didn't matter that their father had told them they needed to be in the house by 8. If they were in by 7 it was too late. It seemed like he knew they were imperfect, hated the fact that they were. And even if they did do something right the only thing he was thinking about was what they were going to do wrong.

It sucked but Eric could never change that. Only try and protect his sister from as much as he could. There had been a time where he was calm though, not completely unhappy, almost like his anger was hiding. It had been when their Mom was alive.

Eric smiled without meaning to. They were on their way back to the apartment, Eric in the back seat and his dad in the front.

Their Mom had been a pretty woman, dimples permanently etched in her freckled cheeks and eyes always sparkling. She seemed like an 8 year old in a woman's body. Childish and simple. Everything was black and white to her, which had never been a bad thing.

She had balanced out their father. Or at least left him so utterly blinded by her innocence that he forgot to be angry. Eric could never remember why she had left. At least, he thought she left. There was never any evidence that she was dead… or alive. Only painted memories he covered himself in. Maybe their father hadn't been angry around because she was, indeed, perfect.

"How was Guam anyways?" A voice broken through his mind. His dad.

"We never went sir," Eric answered dully.

"I spent all that money and you never even made it to Guam?!" His father yelled, swinging the car harshly into the parking lot. "What a load of bull shit!"

Eric winced as his shoulder made painful contact with the car door. "We got stranded, sir. Not much the school could do."

His father chewed this over for a minute. "Fucking retards."

"Yessir."

DFFFFFFFFFFFFGDFGERGAREEGGRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

"You fucking begged me to go on this stupid trip and you didn't go anywhere!" The slam of the door made Eric whimper. He was alone with him.

"I-It wasn't my fault," the voice belonged to a child. A scared child, like the boogeyman was out to get them. It wasn't the Eric he let all the other survivors see.

"It's never your fault is it!? You tell me that excuse every fucking time! All I hear is your goddamn whining constantly," Eric's father shoved him against the door. Letting the knob dig into Eric's back. "Why didn't you stay stranded boy?"

He stayed silent. There was nothing he could say right now to lesson the beating. He could only stand there and take it. Eric had learned long ago that if he said anything to him after that point, the hurt only got worse. Shutting up was all he could do.

After a few punches, the pain disappears. Eric counted down the moments in till he was in a numbed bliss. His body shut down and he could see nothing even though his eyes were wide open.

It was automatic.

Get hit. Fall down. Get back up.

_Repeat the process. _

He wasn't his self. He let it all come. Just choke it down like bad medicine. Think of something else.

Taylor.

Live inside her smile. Hide underneath her golden hair. Pretend everything okay, at least in till the pain started to kick in. That was his wake up call. When the pain began again, he knew his father was finished.

But in till than… _Taylor. Taylor. Taylor. _

She was perfect.


	30. Relationshits

Woo

Woo! Another update!!

Chapter Twenty Eight: Relationshits

Bob looked in the mirror, inspecting the saggy bags underneath his eyes. This was who he was. Why did he feel disgusted than? He shivered, looking away.

"Hon?" A voice called to him, "You okay in there?"

His wife. Why didn't he remember her? Bob walked over to the bathroom and door and opened it. She stood there with one hand protectively covering her shoulder and the other hanging loosely at her side. Like she was afraid he'd hit her.

"Fine. Great actually," He gave her a smile and raised a hand to her cheek. She winced. "What about you?"

What was wrong? Why was she afraid of him? If this was his wife… Why didn't he feel the connection between them? There wasn't a spark, no even a flicker.

"Good," she answered stiffly, breaking his hold on her gently. "Do you remember anything?"

Russell shook his head, pretending to be sad. In actuality… He didn't want to know about what had happened between them. _He was afraid of the truth. _

"Well, the doctor said it was okay to take you home," she tried smiling but it didn't suite her, "As long as it's okay with you."

"Let's go!" Bob did smile this time. For real. Maybe he could make it better between the two of them. Who knows? Maybe they could just forget.

WWWWWWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

Ian broke contact with the ceiling as the door opened. He was sweating buckets, feeling like he had been dipped in warm honey but without the taste. He was pissed. At everything and everybody. The reasons were lost but he knew he should be mad.

"What?!" It came in a broken shout.

"It's just me," A tiny voice whimpered.

"Jory!" No! No! No! He couldn't talk to her now! Not now!

"I was just wondering how you were feeling," She slipped into the room, giving him a smile that lit up cities.

"Okay, you?" He asked, feeling nervous. The sweat he was constantly producing starting appearing for different reasons. Ian was nervous.. Talking to Jory!

Before the crash, he hadn't really paid too much attention to her. Just a normal goody-goody with good grades and good parents. Too good of a reputation to even think of talking to someone as bad as Ian.

But he was wrong.

Jory pulled through where he couldn't. _Where Abbey couldn't. _She had stayed calm when he had hurt his leg even though he was hysterical. There was something about her personality that made him feel like he was under the drug. Even though he wasn't.

She was insecure about herself. Ian had realized this somewhere along the lines. That's what had stopped her from being someone like Daley or Nathan. They both had the charisma and the self confidence to put themselves out there. She didn't feel she was good enough to do that.

But Ian could see. And was a little relived that she didn't want to go public… That would mean he would have to share.


	31. The Real World Hits

I got grounded, sorry

I got grounded, sorry. There goes my streak of updates… Oh well, I guess… )

Thanks for reading!! Hope you review!! Oh and for last names I just took the actors last name.

Chapter Twenty Nine: The Real World Hits

"I want to adopt him," Susan stated.

She and the social worker were a few feet outside of Jackson's room. He had fallen asleep only a few minutes before, finally giving into the dark spots spinning around his consciousness.

"It's a lot more complicated than that. Especially with Cody's case," the social worker shook her head, trying not to wince at the tightness of her own ponytail. The blond hair had been painfully pulled across her scalp to meet the rubber bands. She hated the style but it was professional after all.

"How complicated?" Susan pressed, "I'll do it!"

"Mam I know you've just gone through the loss of your own daughter. You can't want another one so soon!"

"You don't understand! You're acting like they're animals! I think I can handle another kid!" Susan said, trying to keep her cool. After talking to him… He needed her. He needed somebody! All that guilt and resentment boiling inside his body…

"We can't talk about this now! He's not even out of the hospital yet. The media is trying to get an interview with the poor kid. _Not now._" The social worker was irritated. She had never liked Jackson. He was that rebellious, too quiet kid that no one wanted to adopt. A waste of space.

Susan sighed. She did have a point. Maybe not now. "Fine but I'm not out of your hair just yet."

She pushed pass the woman and headed for the bathroom. She needed a smoke.

GHFGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDHHHHHHH

Charles pushed his fake mop of brown hair from his face. The balding skin underneath his wig was dripping with sweat but he resisted the urge to pull it off. No one wanted to see his shiny scalp.

Charles was a reporter for the local paper. He loved secret, especially dirty ones. After hearing about the kids brought back from 'dead' he wanted an interview. Who wouldn't? Hearing about how the normal teenage hormones being put on an island, no cell phones, internet…. Take-out! Charles could hardly imagine it, himself.

And someone was dead.

That alone was enough for a single interview. A young girl didn't come back. He licked his lips. He could almost see a mother breaking down and telling him her deepest secrets. Grief can do that to you.

Charles pushed through the doors of the hospital, hoping someone from the Flight 29 was still here. He had only heard about this 'case' recently. A few people sat in the lobby, all of which seemed fine. No tear tracks, blackened trails of ruined mascara, trembling lips. Damn, was he too late?

"Are you a reporter?" A woman asked. Bingo! She had just walked into the room and showed signs of crying. Score!

"Why yes I am," He pointed to his pass that allowed him in here usually, "I work for the local paper." The pass showed a blurry picture of his face, the paper he worked for and his name. It was a standard pass that allowed him access to most things. Behind the scenes to things, school access, free cuts in lines. Most things.

"I'm one the survivors mothers!" she seemed happy, "Do I get to be in the newspaper?"

Ah. He loved the mothers who craved the attention. They would tell him anything without worry of their son or daughter's feelings. He loved it!

"Who might you be?"

"I'm Ian Rogers's mother!"


	32. Nothing Ever Changes

Wowie, we're getting into the big numbers aren't we

Wowie, we're getting into the big numbers aren't we? Thirty… I'm not even done yet...

Chapter Thirty: Nothing Ever Changes

They say that tragedy is supposed to bring people closer to one another. What was supposed to happen after this? Would they go back to those separate worlds of rich and poor, losers and jocks? Or would they actually start giving a damn about someone other than themselves. Taylor wanted to believe things had changed. She wanted it so bad it almost hurt. But she knew deep down that nothing ever changed.

Taylor was sitting on her bed still, letting the gravity of her situation settle on her shoulders. The white ceiling seemed to get vaster and vaster, like it stretched much farther than her room. Wanting to suck her in and keep her for itself.

Maybe she was crazy. Taylor got up from the bed, ignoring the dizziness it brought from doing it too fast. She needed to do something. Something that would prove to her brain that she had changed. Something had fucking changed!

She pulled herself into her bathroom, trying not to react to the new set of toothbrushes and shampoos that weren't her own. Her mother had moved in. Whatever, she would take care of that later.

Taylor looked at herself in the mirror, taking in the sick bags underneath her eyes and un-plucked eyebrows. This was her. The same her that existed before the crash, just not hiding behind the façade of make-up. The same dirty blond hair rested past her shoulders and suddenly she felt sick.

Taylor grabbed the scissors resting on the sink and starting snipping away. _I've changed! I've changed! I'll __**change.**_

Blond strands of hair clogged the drain as she turned on the sink to wash her face. She touched the cool water, a little afraid to bring it up to her face. She knew that as soon as she did she would realize what she had done.

_Afraid, afraid. You're always afraid. Afraid of what people will think of you. See? Your still you. No make-up but a air cut. _

"Fuck you!" Taylor shouted, rising her face in a burst of anger. She looked back up at herself, warm salty tears trailing down her face. She looked pathetic. Pissed and pathetic.

Before she knew it she had taken a fist and connected with the glass. It shattered underneath her closed fingers. The glass tinkered onto the porcelain of the sink, making a disturbing rhythm no one would catch but the maker.

_This is you. You can't escape yourself. _

"Watch me!" Taylor screamed to no one. She ran out of her room with the full intent of visiting someone. Eric.

"I'm leaving Mom," she told her mother, getting ready for the yelling about her hair.

"That's nice dear." Her mother waved her away so she could finish her book.


	33. You Have Your Father's Eyes

Chapter Thirty One:

Thanks for reading! Big shout-out to all my regulars: girlyworld95, watched 2 much tv, prpleconverse17, theatergirl. And everybody else! You make my world go 'round! This update is for you guys lol.

Chapter Thirty One: You Have Your Father's Eyes

The cool air of a darkened evening sent chills down Taylor's back. She and Eric were sitting on a swing set only a few blocks from his apartment. There hadn't been any conversation yet; they both could feel the tension of an unknown force stopping them from using their voice.

In other words, they both knew something was wrong… they just didn't know how to fix it.

Taylor watched her legs as she pumped lightly, letting her body be propelled back and forth. It was soothing in a stupid way like a mother rocking her baby to sleep. Had her own mother ever done that?

"You cut your hair," Eric finally said, breaking the silence like she had broken the mirror. Impractical and without warning.

Her pretty blond hair came out in depressing chunks, stopping mid cheek or sometimes higher. It made her eyes seem bigger, unavoidable perhaps. He could tell she had done it herself in a fit of rage but knew she wouldn't want to discuss it.

Eric reached out and touched the soft curl that had started to develop. "Maybe you needed a change?"

Taylor looked up at him with wounded- no, guarded eyes. "Does it look that bad?" Her voice was hoarse with lack of use and unaddressed emotions.

"I think dying it would have been better… But you look pretty anyways. It brings out your eyes," Eric told her truthfully, moving his hand to touch her face, "What on your mind?"

He didn't know where this was coming from. He just knew she needed support. Not the 'get in your pants' support but the 'I won't judge you' kind.

"Everything… nothing," Taylor took a second to rethink her statement. Get her thoughts in check. "Do you ever think that… that maybe every wrong in your life… Is somehow all your fault?"

He thought it over, letting the question roll around in his mouth. "All the time."

"I feel like… Aw, hell!" The sudden burst of anger flared in her voice, "Sometimes I don't know what to think! My mom… I was the result of a broken marriage. Daddy cheated on her and she figured it. But not before she was pregnant with me. She ended up taking all his money, the rich son of a bitch. She kept me not because she wanted to but because the system said she had to. She never wanted me ever. And every time she looks into my eyes all she sees is my father."

A sob raked her body and she fell to the ground. Not wanting the sensation of the swing anymore.

Eric fell with her, wrapping his arms around her in a friendly gesture. "It's not your fault Taylor. It couldn't have been your fault, you weren't even born. Your dad was stupid." He stopped only to pick up her chin and make her look him in the eyes. "Your mom is stupid for not seeing you for you."

Taylor held his gaze for what felt like ever. She could see the hurt, anger, resentment fighting below the surface. He wasn't any more screwed up than she was. A bruise had blossomed below his left eye; she knew where it had come from.

"_Is Eric home?" Taylor asked, not liking the joy sparkling in his eyes. _

"_Yeah, who's asking?" _

"_I'm a friend of his; could he come out for a little?" _

"_If he can get up," the father snorted, shutting the door in her face. _

"I'm sorry," Taylor whispered.

"For what?" it was a less intense version of his father.

"For dumping all my shit on you when your so close to your breaking point too," she said.

"It doesn't matter… Maybe us Flight29ers need to work together to fix each other. I mean, that's all we got," Eric grinned and was about to continue when something met his lips.

Warm and soft. Everything he wanted it to be and more. Eric brought her closer as she melted into his frame.

Maybe it didn't matter how messed up everyone's lives were. Eric remembered a math lesson he had learned right before the crash.

_Two negatives equal a positive. _


	34. My Heroine

Chapter Thirty Two: My Heroine

Chapter Thirty Two: My Heroine

"How's the leg?" Jory asked, taking a seat on the far corner of the bed. She had that look in her eye that she had on the island. Like he might break. Than again, he had broken so he shouldn't have been too offended.

The shivers and shakes stopped and suddenly he felt like he could keep down something more than fluids. That's the effect she had on him.

"Doing much better. The doctors said that if you hadn't done such a good job setting it, it'd be much worse," Ian told her, truthfully.

"It was nothing. If it had been me you would have done the same thing."

No, he wouldn't have. Ian never did well under pressure. He probably would have sat there blubbering like an idiot till the leg magically set itself.

"How about you? The doctors say you're fine?" Ian tried to keep a conversation. Again, that wasn't his strong point. His conversations usually consisted with drug dealings.

"Oh yeah," Jory bit her lip. No. The doctors had told her she was still overweight. She frowned even deeper. She had barely eaten anything… She even went hiking! Yet..

"Something wrong?" Ian questioned. She looked suddenly on edge.

"Nothing."

The door opened and they turned to see a short man with an obvious wig. He was sweating but it seemed more like a natural thing than a nervous habit. Ian's mother followed after, trying desperately to apply her lipstick right.

"What's happening?" Ian suddenly felt sick again. His mother's presence tended to do that.

"This nice man wants to interview you!" Mrs. Rodgers exclaimed, fluffing her hair.

"I don't want to be interviewed." He said simply. His hands convulsed and he jumped out of bed. His eyes glanced around the room till they found the door to the bathroom. He ran/limped for it. _Don't puke yet. Don't' puke yet. _The pain in his leg was mute. 

"Hi, I'm Jory," she introduced herself. She raised her voice, trying to cover up Ian's heaving.

"Are you one of the survivors?" Charles asked, excited. Girls always appealed more to the audience.

"Yeah, I am."

"Are your parents here?" He asked. Damn the rule that minors needed their guardian present.

"Actually, they are. Do you want me to go get them?"

"That would be great!" Charles cried happily. He would be getting his interview!

"Let me check on Ian and I'll go get them," Jory gave him an unsure smile and made her way to the bathroom.

Ian was sitting on the floor, his head leaning on the coldness of the porcelain toilet. He looked pathetic, really.

Jory wrinkled her nose at the smell of puke but kept towards him anyways.

"Do you still have that fever?"

"Yeah but it's nothing," he answered her breathily.

She put a hand on his forehead, a little surprised by the heat. He leaned into her touch. His nausea slowly ebbed away.

"I have to go get my parents. Are you going to be okay?"

Ian shook his head, "Don't leave me." It was barely above a whisper, pain lacing its way around his voice.

She smiled, "I won't. I won't." Jory sank to the floor, not letting her hand move from his face.

"I love you," Ian whispered absently. Like he was stating fact.

Jory stared at him. Had he said what she thought he did?


	35. Rooms and Secrets

Chapter Thirty Three:

Chapter Thirty Three: Rooms and Secrets

"Come on in," Susan beckoned the hesitant teen. In the end, it only took a bribe filled with money to get Jackson over here. To her house.

He stared at her, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. She was so much like Melissa it was scary. What was he supposed to do? Mooch off this look alike. He already took Melissa away from her, he cost her money. Why was he here? Why wasn't he curled up in some orphanage, crying and feeling guiltily? Because that's what should be happening. Jackson wasn't supposed to be here pouring salt into open wounds.

"I…," he didn't know what to say. He just stood outside her door, a backpack slung over his shoulders, carrying what little possessions he had.

"Cody, come on, the air conditioning is on."

At the prospect of costing her more, he moved in. Barely wincing at the sound of his real name. Eric was the only one who called him that.

She grabbed his hand and forcefully led him through the halls. "Your room's on the left. The bathroom is right across."

Susan pointed and led him further into the house. It was nice, expensive looking like everything in this part of town. Chandeliers hanging from the ceilings, paintings and vases taking up dust in the appropriate places.

"Okay," he managed as she took him into the kitchen. Countertops outlined the perimeter, little machineries he had never seen in his life sitting on most of them. Jackson felt like a homeless person in a ballroom. Like an idiot in an advanced class.

Suddenly, Jackson felt a tiredness ebb away at heart. This wasn't going to get any easier. He was running from his problems again only to be faced with so much worse.

"Taylor's house is right over there!" Susan exclaimed excitedly, pointing across the backyard to an even bigger house. Of course, how appropriate.

"Great," Jackson put on a smile that felt fake even to him. He liked his lips. "Do you mind if I get settled?"

"No, not at all! The car trip must have drained you, pneumonia can do that."

Jackson nodded a thanks towards her and left the kitchen to where his room would be. He shuttered, tears making their way into this eyes.

It was an empty room but the carpet still held impression of things that used to be there. A pale pink coat of paint stretched across the walls, some parts peeling like posters had hung there but were worn off.

Jackson made his way across the room and touched a little piece of torn paper taped to the wall. It looked like a photograph of come sort, he could make out the start of pitch black hair.

Melissa… This had been her room. He swung around, putting the puzzle together of what her room used to look like. A bed in the corner, a dresser and a desk.

"Mel," he spoke the word like a swear on his lips. In the house, it might as well have been.

Jackson almost robotically sat on the carpet, wondering stupidly how he was going to get settled if there was nothing to settle on.

At that moment Susan walked in the room, pretending not to notice that Jackson had cried recently.

"The movers said a bed would be coming in the next few days. Till than there's a guest room upstairs," she said, "I just wanted you to know this would be your room is all. Anything you want, furniture or clothing, just let me know."

"I will." He said, not wanting to look her in the eyes.

She left the room, leaving him alone with the smell of Melissa. Leaving him alone with the last living memories of a smiling girl with too gentle of a soul to be in this world. He walked to the closet, hoping there would be hangers.

Instead, he found a black composition notebook. It's cover falling off and worn with use.

He picked it up, barely able to read the curvy writing.

_This belongs to: Mel. _


	36. Enrollment

Chapter Thirty Four: Enrollment

Chapter Thirty Four: Enrollment

"So how's life been since you got back?" Nathan asked, swaying gently on the swing next to Daley. She was flying forward, her legs pumping hard and steady while as he just sort of sat there. Letting the momentum of his body move him slightly forward. It seemed like as soon as he learned his little secret he could point out all the flaws in their relationship.

She and him both needed to be leaders and hated to be caught making a mistake. It wasn't a thing they could really get over so their relationship… Would definitely be filled with fights.

Oh, yeah and the whole liking men thing was a big downer.

"Not bad actually. Lex finally seems comfortable around us all," Daley told him, letting her newly short hair be windblown. "What about you?"

"Okay, I guess. Mom wants me to take therapy and Dad thinks it's no good. Same old, same old," he put on a grin so she figured it was a joke.

But she saw right past it, "Maybe some therapy would do you good, I mean, you haven't seemed yourself lately."

"Therapy's for girls and emos," Nathan couldn't keep the mocking tone out of his voice.

"And guys who realize they're in the 21st century," Daley said dully.

Nathan laughed than stopped abruptly. "Seriously, I'm not going to go."

There was silence for a few minutes. Just the creaking sound of an old swing going back and forth.

"What if I got another guy to go with you?" Daley suggested brightly.

"So we can be freaks together?" Nathan shook his head, "I'll pass."

"I know!" Daley hopped from her swing, barely able to keep herself on her feet. "I'll get the whole Flight 29 group to do it!"

BEDSDGYHHFDSWERUOPKJHFDDSWERGTHY

"You want me to take all of you?" Dr. Kylie asked, slightly surprised.

"Well, not at the same time!" Daley laughed, "But separately would be great. I think you'll get a lot more out of it."

"And you're all okay with this?" He looked at all the teens expectantly.

Jackson nodded, looking depressed but sure.

Lex, who had been at Daley's side, did also.

On crutches, Ian smiled meaning: Yes. His eyes were bloodshot and unfocused and even the doctor could tell he was high.

Taylor, who had been very uncomfortable around everyone's surprised looks at her hair, bobbed her head up and down vigorously. Yes.

"Whatever," Eric dismissed them and added, "That means yes."

Jory cleared her throat politely, "Yes, it sounds like fun."

Nathan looked away but mumbled a 'yes'.

"And you sir? You're okay with it too?" Dr. Kylie asked Russell.

He looked up suddenly, remembering that was indeed his name. "Yes, it'll be good for me."

Dr. Kylie broke into an uneasy smile. "Well than I guess the Flight 29ers are in for another adventure."


	37. Daley's Bossy

Lol, how many chapters do you think they'll let me do

Lol, how many chapters do you think they'll let me do?

Chapter Thirty Five: Daley's Bossy

Dr. Kylie was a tall man, a spray of wild dark locks attacking most of his forehead and scalp. His greens eyes seemed to be serious but laughing. Like he knew something you didn't. In the first real contact with the Flight 29ers he had been dressed formally but as Daley looked at him now that wasn't the case.

A Death Cab for Cutie T-shirt billowed around his chest, looking a little too big for his slim frame and a pair of faded jeans completed the look. He was about as unprofessional as an ex-convict, Daley thought. Maybe this had been the wrong choice.

"I think I overdressed," Daley blushed looking down at her red blouse and dress pants.

"No, you're fine," he swung his swivel chair around to his desk and opened a drawer. He searched inside it for a second or two and came out with a clip-on tie. "All better."

She laughed, "Oh yeah, you're fancy now!"

He slid back to face her now looking serious, "So let's get down to business. You seem like the kind of girl who likes that."

Daley tried to seem comfortable on the leather sofa but truthfully, she wasn't. "Is it that easy to spot? Yeah, clean, tidy, in control. That's me."

"You sounded a little bitter," Dr. Kylie commented, writing absently on his white clipboard. It was covered in band stickers: Linkin Park, My Chemical Romance, Flyleaf, Rise Against, Atreyu, Green Day. She lost track.

"Did I?"

He nodded, "Do you like that about yourself?"

"I guess I did," Daley thought out loud, "But after the crash and the whole being stranded thing… I'm not so sure. Than again, after the crash, I'm not so sure about anything."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's kind of hard to explain. I used to think every liked me and all. I thought I was popular in a way. And now… It seemed like I've been a power hungry bitch my whole life. I'm not really sure if it's true or not."

"I can't tell quite yet if that's true but how can one experience like this change your whole perspective?" Dr. Kylie asked.

"A lot of things happened on that island. Some not so nice, some really nice. Everyone found out who they really were. It wasn't so much as an experience as an eye opener," Daley tried to put the trip into words.

"And you figured out you were bossy. Did someone tell you this or did you just happen to stumble upon it?"

"Lex did actually. In a nicer way, of course." Her heart stung with the memory.

"Lex?"

"He's my adopted brother," she told him.

"Adopted? How's that working for you?"

Daley shrugged, "Alright, I guess. A lot smoother for me than it was for him."

"Can you elaborate on tha- Oh crap, I just went over our time." Dr. Kylie grimaced. "We'll continue this later?"

"Sure."


	38. Ian's Acceptance

I got a new phone

I got a new phone! Wee! Oh, my aim is: eightysomething2 for any of you who want to chat. I actually updated on time, very proud of myself. –smiles- Well, I'll let you get back to the story. Thanks for the reviews! Would love more!!

Chapter Thirty Six: Ian's Acceptance

"Am I allowed to talk about that?" Ian asked, "I mean, you're not gonna' rat me out are you?"

Dr. Kylie laughed, "I used to do the stuff when I was your age, don't worry. This is between you and me."

"My parents aren't involved either?" Ian looked suspicious.

"Not unless you want them to be."

He visibly relaxed, slumping in the leather chair with relief. "So, what am I supposed to talk about?"

"Anything," Dr. Kylie shrugged, "Everything."

"Let's talk about Jory."

"Jory, Jory… I'm having her soon," Dr. Kylie wrote something down on his clipboard, "What about her?"

"This girl," He ran a hand through his hair, "She's fucking awesome, you know? And she doesn't even know it. The entire time I was on the island I was clean. And you know what? I didn't feel any withdrawal! Is that even possible?"

Dr. Kylie scribbled something and looked up and him, "It might be possible. Sounds like you're head over heels in love. She share the same feelings?"

Ian let his gaze drift down to his shoes, "Nah… I dunno. I ended up telling her after I was done puking. Seems weird, I know but if she's upset I just feel like spewing chunks everywhere. So I told her, you know but she didn't say anything. Just starts lookin' around the room like crazy. Finally, she gets up and leaves without a word… Fucking ruined me."

Dr. Kylie leaned over and touched Ian's chin gently, bringing his face up so he could look him directly in the eyes. "That's not a real denial Ian. She must have just felt uncomfortable. You kids went through hell on that island; she might not be ready for a relationship just yet. Give her some time, maybe she'll come around."

"Maybe…," Ian though for a second, "Or maybe not. Jesus, Doc I'm a _druggie _for God's sake! She doesn't fucking deserve me!"

"Maybe you shouldn't do them anymore than Ian. Love requires some sacrifice."

"I-I can't. I've tried. Not by myself. Not without Jory. I need them, I need them," He shuddered as if in his own world.

Dr. Kylie touched his should as if to bring him back. "Why do you need them Ian? You seem like a strong guy, what does this shit do to you to make you want to come back? What doesn't real life give you that you need to fake?"

Ian pulled away, "I don't know! They make me feel accepted, I guess. Like nothing in the world can bring me down. I mean, my parents never really noticed but… They always managed to bring me down. Don't get me wrong but… They never fucking got me. Not what I did or said. I wasn't _accepted. _And school, god. School was a friggin' nightmare! I was made fun of, beat up."

He shuddered again, goose bumps appearing along his arms. "But the drugs, you know. They made me feel good. I could get the shit beaten out of me and it'd all be okay."

"But Jory… Jory makes you feel accepted?"

"My god, yes. She didn't judge me with first glance. Think I was some loner freak She talked to me like she talked to everyone else. Gave me a chance. Laughed at my jokes. Made me feel _good."_

"We're out of time Ian. We'll pick back up on this tommrow."

Ian started to leave, rubbing the tears out of his eyes furiously.

"And Ian?"

He stopped.

"Stay off the drugs. For her. For yourself."

"I'll try."


	39. Memories Unlocked

Psh, so I was talking to my friend on here who also writes and she's got 170 reviews for a 10 chapter story

Psh, so I was talking to my friend on here who also writes and she's got 170 reviews for a 10 chapter story. I was sad at first and than I read her comments. Most were very negative. Now I am very happy, you guys are so nice! –bounces up and down- I'm also updating rather frequently! But I am dead tired… 2:23am my time. Want to sleep… but can't.

Anyhow, you're all probably very excited to figure out who I therapy next. So I'll quit talking… typing.. whatever. Oh BTW! Longer chapter just for girlyworld. See? It pays to leave a comment! I'll actually listen to your NEEDS!

**Disclaimer: As many chapters as I've done, I still do not own this. Though I probably should have mentioned it earlier… **

Chapter Thirty Seven: Memories Unlocked

Jackson looked down, picking at the loose threads on the leather couch that held some insignificant design. He didn't feel like talking today. Not with a stranger, not with Susan, not with anybody. His tongue was heavy, parched though he held a water bottle in his hand. The lids on his eyes were threatening to close and not open for hours but Jackson held strong. Melissa would want him to do this right?

"So Cody"- "Jackson." He immediately said, interrupting the doctor.

Dr. Kylie was not fazed, "Why Jackson? That's your last name, this isn't boot camp."

"I don't want to talk about," He shook his head, "Just call me Jackson."

Dr. Kylie raised an eyebrow, "I'm not calling you Jackson till you give me a reason."

Jackson looked up, suddenly interested in the man who defied him. His shirt held a hypnotic painting, a graffiti-like scrawl saying: System of a Down. Long dark hair obscured his features, making his green eyes seem less intense. Like he wanted to do society a favor and not give it his full attention in fear that it would melt.

"How about I won't punch your face in?" Jackson said lightly, giving the man full on eye contact. It almost hurt, that much raw emotion. Dr. Kylie wasn't hiding shit. Not from him or anybody else. More surprises.

The doctor gave Jackson his face, "Give me your best shot _Cody_."

He stared at the man as if he were crazy but didn't raise a fist. He contemplated telling him the truth. Did it really matter? Getting people to talk about their problems was his job, why not give in?

_Because giving in will hurt_.

That was reason enough. He was such a fucking baby, anytime he mentioned her name was like pouring salt into open wounds. He didn't want the searing pain to run through his body, turning out his insides and exposing him for the person he really was. Or the lack of person he was.

"What are you thinking Cody?" Dr. Kylie's voice wavered into his thoughts like a butterfly's innocent flight. Like he didn't mean to interrupt.

"Nothing."

"Don't give me bull. I can see it in your eyes, stop thinking Cody. Surprisingly, that's sometimes not what therapy's for. Just close your eyes and tell me what pops in your head. Thinking about it will dilute your thoughts and than it makes my job harder. Your job harder." He had pulled his face away slowly.

Jackson gave the man another hard look.

_Clack. Clack. Clack. The sound of a credit card hitting a coffee table over and over again. _

Where the fuck did that come from?

"Think of something important Cody? I can see it in your eyes," Dr. Kylie took a note discreetly.

"You see shit."

_White powder being split into lines. A smiling face. Rotting teeth pulling themselves into a twisted grin. I want to cry but I know I can't. It makes him mad. _

"Who mad Jackson?"

_I'm not allowed to say his real name. He lets me call him Huey sometimes, when he's in a good mood. He let me snort a line once too. I was so good. Mommy said he bought the clothes on my skin. I thought he was my Daddy… But when I let it slip. Let the name slip… _

Jackson shuddered, suddenly feeling queasy. Were these really his thoughts? He never could remember his real Mom and Dad. He had been trapped in the system since age six. Was there really life before he was an orphan. Of course there was but he didn't' dwell on it. Didn't have the time.

_His knuckles are twisting into my stomach, churning the insides like a blender making a smoothie. It hurts, I try to scream, shout, whimper. I manage this gurgling noise and suddenly the pressure is gone. I fall hard into the carpet, letting my knees soak up the vacant pain friction was causing. It was nothing compared to my stomach._

_Reds and yellows, a soupy form, splattered in front of my eyes. I get some chunks in my light hair. He's yelling. I'm not sure what. But, my god, he's yelling it loud. I can hear the sound, the slurs he makes because he snorted up the white powder on the table. Mommy's not home. _

_Not that she would save me. _

"Cody? Cody!?"

A voice drags him into reality, his throat is on fire and he's not sure why.

Jackson looks up to see Dr. Kylie, offering a paper cup filled with water. His face is etched with worry and… God, he could taste it in the air. _Curiosity. _

"We're out of time and the janitor probably wants to clean that up before it soaks into the carpet," Dr. Kylie sighed, disappointed that it ended now. Would Jackson be as willing as he was today with information?

"Sorry," Jackson muttered, getting up slowly like he had been underwater with his regular clothes on. Everything was heavy. Much too heavy to be real. To be dry. What the hell was wrong with him?

**Have a special request? Leave a comment and a name of who you want to see next. It can be Taylor, Eric, Jory, Captain Russell or even the 29ers who've already had a turn. Damn, do I feel like a commercial… -smiles- **


	40. Melissa's Own Session

Chapter Thirty Eight: Melissa's Own Session

Chapter Thirty Eight: Melissa's Own Session

Eric is sucking on a peppermint; the bitter sweet taste enveloping his mouth is a spicy yet refreshing feeling of bliss. He liked peppermints. The hair on top of his head was ruffled, something that could have been covered by a hat but surprisingly wasn't.

Maybe he didn't own a hat anymore.

Dr. Kylie made a note before the boy even spoke.

The sound of pencil against paper made Eric jump, falling out of the world he was in and back into reality.

"What's up Doc?"

"Funny, funny," Dr. Kylie took a seat across from him, "Never heard that one before."

Eric's posture was the shaky form of confidence, like he was trying to hide how insecure he really was. Or maybe it was too early in the morning and Kylie wasn't ready to interpret anyone's emotions in till he had a cup of damn coffee.

"So, Eric," Dr. Kylie started, "How's the funny guy?"

Eric shrugged, "Alright, I guess. We're not on the island so I guess even dumpster diving would seem appealing right now."

"Did it really suck that bad?" Dr. Kylie asked, letting his pencil tap against his clipboard steadily.

Eric shrugged again, "Personally the drama was actually worse than the island itself."

"What went down?"

"Well, everyone was totally hit by the biggest arrow Cupid had ever let loose. I mean, seriously! Every girl was head over heels in love with me!" The lies Eric was telling tasted bad, no peppermint able to cover it up.

"Really?" Dr. Kylie said dryly, not buying it for a second. He tried to sober the mood, "Even Melissa?"

"Melissa?" Eric made it a question, hoping he didn't notice his voice cracking.

He did. "Yeah, she died there didn't she?"

"More like committed suicide." There was no joking in his voice, though the statement called for it.

"Did she? The press are pulling it off as an accidental death," Dr. Kylie put down another note.

Eric laughed emptily. "Hell no. She fucking jumped."

"Why, do you know?"

At this point, Eric would do anything to keep the spotlight off him. Talk about anything other than himself. If it had to be Melissa who was pulled under the bus… Then so be it.

"I think it was an unsaid conclusion that it was Cody's fault but I have other thoughts."

"Cody Jackson? Part of this? Were they intimate?"

"Intimate?" Eric snorted at the word, "Mel wished but Cody had told her not now. In other words REJECTED."

The words were cruel, the harshness rolling around his tongue like clothes in a dryer. He glanced at the clock. Almost. Almost.

"She killed herself because Cody wouldn't take her?"

"That's what the others are telling themselves," Eric shrugged, not for the first time in this session. "But like I said, I don't think that's really how it all went down. Something more drove Melissa to do it."

"What is that something?"

"Nathan…"

"Nathan? I haven't had him yet but what makes you say that?"

"She and him used to go out, you see. Way back when. Most people don't really remember it but it did happen. Melissa had never done well in school but by the third month of them dating, she was an A+ student. She had joined clubs and stayed after school to clean up and junk. Things she had never done before."

"First thought is: Shit! She's really fucking happy. But one day, I had pulled her aside for some reason, maybe to copy off her homework or something, I dunno, and I noticed something. Mel's arms were covered in bruises. I was thinking: Damn, you're a klutz. Not the case though is it?"

"Nathan and her broke up and she got totally depressed. Then Jackson came. I think she saw a little of her in him. And it totally broke her when he told her no. Something fucked her up when she was with Nathan. No idea what… But I don't blame her jumping on Cody alone. No."

Dr. Kylie looked at his watch, "Congradu-fucking-lations."

"What?"

"You managed a whole session without talking about yourself."


	41. Coffee And Wives

I dunno

I dunno. I like Dr. Kylie and decided he could be a major character .Why not? You all know you like him too. Thanks for the reviews and don't hesitate to ask for stuff. I might do it. Most likely.. It's late and I'm rambling.. Off to bed..

Chapter Thirty Nine: Coffee and Wives

He pushed the button on the coffee machine, taking a small comfort in the hot liquid hitting Styrofoam. Dr. Kylie ran a hand through his dark hair. _How could all these kids be so messed up? _

He hadn't finished all his first sessions with them yet and already he suspected so much. And knew so much more. It was nice at first, seeing all these kids be bonded by trauma. And he gladly accepted the job but now… Aw, hell it was all one big ache in his heart.

"Hey Kylie, think you got enough coffee?"

Looking up to his coworker, the doctor immediately swore up a storm. The coffee was now running down his hand and pouring onto the floor. Why hadn't he noticed near boiling liquid was touching him?

The burn was there now, a dull pain at the tips of his fingers like a needle prick. Kylie brought the cup up to his lips and took a sip out of the overflowing cup. It was bitter at first, sending his dulled awareness into hyper mode but eased into the clarity of his usual self.

"Can you move? I need some too," His coworker was now clearly annoyed.

"Sorry George, you know me. Gotta let me indulge or else I get grumpy."

Grumpy? That Eric kid just about pissed him off by the end of the session. He had Kylie so wrapped up in the story he was telling he hadn't realized no therapy was actually done on him. Even an idiot could see past Eric's false personality and Dr. Kylie was a professional! Damnit!

He walked back to his office slowly, who was the next one? Oh, Ian's girlfriend. Jory. This shouldn't be too bad. She sounded nice.

But Eric… Kylie smiled, "I know someone who's about to get double the usual sessions."

Just then, his cell phone rang. The sweet yet eerie tones Led Zeppelin echoed through the hallways, making at least 3 heads turn.

"Ever hear a ring tone before?" he asked irritably, fumbling to dig it out of his pocket.

"That's Kylie for ya'" someone laughed, sounding slightly muffled.

"Get back to work Jeff," Kylie called to him, finally getting his phone open. "What's up?"

"Drake?" a woman's voice squeaked, "Is that you?"

"Well, this is my cell number… Yeah I guess that would be me," Kylie sighed, saying it slowly as if talking to a 5 year old. Than again, he might as well have been.

"Don't be smart with me. Are you picking up Jackie or not?"

"I got," Kylie looked at his watch, "5 hours before I even need to be in that area of town Lillian. What do you really want?"

"I'm just checking ahead! We don't want a repeat of our wedding!" she told him harshly.

"You're not ever going to let that go are you? I was 5 frigging minutes late!! Sorry I had to tie my shoe!" Kylie walked into his office, taking care to slam the door.

"Tie your shoe? Tie your shoe?! You're not a baby Drake, I think you can do that in less time! And oh, it was an hour not 5 fucking minutes!"

The dial tone met his ears, a clear sign she had hung up.

Women.


	42. A Mother's Love

Sorry... I have like 20 verisons of this chapter, I couldn't figure out how to explain Jory's mom. Oh yeah and it's real, what she has. It's a form of OCD. Weird huh? Here's the chapter.

Chapter Forty: A Mother's Love

Jory popped the headphones out of her ears at the sight of Dr. Kylie. He's got a cup of sloshing black liquid in one hand and a clipboard in the other. Muttering something incoherently, Dr. Kylie starts to sit down when suddenly a loud noise fills the room. It takes a second but Jory reconizes 'Stairway to Heaven' as he swears and answers his phone.

"Yes...?" Irritation and impatience were dripping off his tone. He pauses, letting a fuzzy voice fill his ear. "Yes! I'll pick her up Lillian! Now I'm in the middle of goddamn work, will you let me do my job?!" He doesn't wait for the answer, only hanging up and sinking into the chair with a heavy heart.

"Sorry about that," Dr. Kylie smiles at her, "I'm Dr. Kylie."

Jory gives him a brighter smile, amusement twinkling in her eyes, "Girl troubles sir?"

He shakes his head, "Dr. Kylie, Drake, Doc. You can call me whatever your little heart desires... Expect for sir. And I guess I do but it's not something we need to worry about."

"Well _Drake _what do I need to worry about?" Jory can't figure out why but she likes this man, he makes her feel comfortable. Something she hadn't felt in ages.

"Spilling your soul out to me!" He gives her another white smile and postions his pen, "So shoot!"

"What should I talk about?" Jory asks, furrowing her brow.

"Uh," He makes a clicking sound with his tongue, "How about your parents. What are they like?"

"They're fine. Like anybody's really," She says rather quickly.

"Huh... You sure?" He writes something down slowly.

"Well, I guess... I mean, my Mom's got this sort of sickness. That's a little stressful but nobody's life is perfect," Again Jory smiles but the gesture is starting to hurt.

"Sickness? What, cancer?"

"Oh, no!" Jory laughs, "Nothing that serious. Obsessive complusive disorder."

"Ohh, what does she do?"

Jory blushes. She never likes talking about this. "She's... Well.. Er, it's kind of hard to explain."

"Try," Dr. Kylie touches her knee. "I have a daughter with that. I know how you feel."

"She needs to have sex," Jory spat out, looking away.

"Oh!" Dr. Kylie bits his lip. He had heard of that but never really seen it action. It's said they have sexual feelings going round and round their head constantly. Sort of like a cat in heat. They want to do anything and everything that moves.

"Yeah, she's one twisted mother," Jory laughs bitterly but then looks up looking sorry. "Ugh, it's not her fault though. I really shouldn't be mad at her."

"No, no," Dr. Kylie writes something. "You have a right to be. It must be hard having to live with that. You deserve more but she can't give it to you."

She shrugs, "I wasn't told much but it's really not her fault. I got over it, I really shouldn't be upset by it anymore."

"It's okay to be upset Jory. She took away your sence of confidence, I bet you're really insecure with dating or just guys in general. It's alright to be mad at her sometimes."

"I'm not insecure! I date!"

"Who?"

"Err..."

"Exactly."

"You're not being fair! I mean she didn't ask to be a screwed up whore! That's just the way she is!"

"Screwed up whore huh?" Dr. Kylie gives her a disapproving look. "Sometimes if you let out spouts of your anger it won't build up. I know you tell yourself it's not her fault and that you love her. On the inside, you're pissed at her."

"You've just met me sir, I doubt you can come to a conclusion that fast!" Jory cries.

"It's Drake and I can if it's obvoius. Jory it sounds like you've been with your mother your entire life! That's a long enough time to build up hate for a person."

"I don't hate her!" Jory insists. She thinks for a second and sighs. "Okay... I don't love her. But... God, Drake! It's not her fault!"

"I know it's not her fault, trust me Jory. But you can't think it's okay that when she touchs you it isn't mother's love."

She pales. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

Dr. Kylie gives her a sad smile. "You don't have to. Session over."

She jumps up and just about runs for the door.

"Wait Jory!"

Her hand is locked on the knob. "What?"

"You should date Ian."


	43. Your Advice

Hey guys! I know that some of you guys are e-mailing me and junk and I never really get back to you. It'd really be easier for me if you use my aim adress, which I check more than my actual e-mail lol.

Advertisment: I just heard of this band, Secondhand Serenade. It's really pretty and if you like the slow emo songs lol you'll love this. It helped me loads for inspiration. Go check it out! My favorite song is: Your Call.

Woo, anyways here's the new looong update: Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Chapter Forty One: Taking Advice

"Nice hat," Dr. Kylie remarked as Taylor sat down stiffly. Her limp blond hair was jutting out at some places, different lenghts making it seem frizzy. "Did you do your hair yourself?"

Taylor bit her lip, "Is it that noticable?"

He half-smiled, "Can't lie, you should probably get that fixed."

She shakes her head, closing her dull eyes slowly. "No, I don't want to."

"Why'd you cut it?"

Taylor shrugged. She was so tired, her eyelids getting heavier with each blink. All she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and sleep but she had told Eric she would do this stupid therapy if he would. It's for Eric. Do it for him.

Sighing, she tried to explain, "I wanted a change."

"You were stuck on an island for a least a month and you're telling me nothing changed?" Dr. Kylie scribbles on his clipboard, his hand a blur.

She nods, "Everyone's still the same people they were when this all started. Jackson's still distant, Nathan's still an asshole, Daley still wants control. You'd think after all this shit happened we would be better people but we're not."

"You didn't change?" He's still writing.

"No," Taylor says softly, "I'm still this fake girl, who gets attention from everybody but the only people who she really wants it from."

"Who?"

She lifts her legs up and rests her head on her knees. "It's not important."

"It's gotta' be important if you want them to see you," Dr. Kylie pointed out.

"I don't want to say."

He gave her a frown, "Okay, we'll call them Steven. Did he notice your new haircut."

She furrows her brow. "No. She will though, when her dinner guests come tonight she'll notice."

"She? Okay, Stefanie's her name...," He pauses but continues quickly, "What about your dad?"

"Shit, you know it's my mom."

He smiles, "I figured. Now I know. Stop trying to be somebody else Taylor. Stop hiding. Just be yourself."

"I'm trying!" Taylor cried, "This haircut was done when I was the real me. When I kissed Eric I was the real me! When I was younger... I used to be me. And my Mom started ignoring me. She stopped hugging me. She didn't like me anymore! If your own Mother doesn't like the real you why should you be you? I had to change, don't you see?"

"No." Kylie sighs. "You can't change yourself every time somebody doesn't like you."

"I can try!"

"It'll tear you apart Taylor," He touches her shoulder. "Are you yourself right now?"

"I think...," She bits her lip again. "I scare myself."

"Why?" He notes the tears filling her eyes.

"I get so down when I act myself. It gets hard to talk and move. Like I'm not motivated enough to move. When I pretend though, I laugh and stuff. People think I'm so stupid because I'm so happy all the time. They never realize that I'm trying so hard to not be sad that my happiness is almost cheesy."

"Taylor?" He makes it question.

"Yes?"

"I'm going to put you on some anti-depressants okay?" He says it softly, gently. Like she might break.

Tears roll down her face. "I'm a freak arn't I?"

"No, no. Nothing like that. This will help, I swear to God," He explains quickly, ripping off a corner of paper. "Take this to the drug store down the street. Take one or two okay? If it doesn't get any better, tell me and we can try something else. I want to see you happy Taylor, the real happy.

"Okay," Her voice breaks but she stands up, "I'm done right?"

"Uh-huh," He gets up and opens the door for her. "My cell's on that too, call me if you need to talk to me sooner than our next session, alright Taylor? It doesn't matter what time or day it is."

"Dr. Kylie," She hic-ups, "Thanks."

"No problem."

DDDDDDFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEETRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRVGBBBBBBBBUJF

"Jackie, hey!" He waves to his daughter with a smile on his face. She turns her head, short choppy black hair wet from the rain.

"Daddy!" Her face brightens and she runs to the red car. "I thought you'd be late!"

He laughs, "That what Mom tell you?"

"Yeah," She turns on the heater, letting the warm gush of air over her chilled frame. Reaching out, she puts on her seatbelt, strapping it closer to her chest. "How was work?"

"Pretty bad," He makes a face, "Really depressing actually. Would you be terribly upset if we stopped for ice cream on our way home to brighten our mood?"

Though it seemed impossible, Jackie's face grew happier, "That would be great!"

He tugged on her hair playfully, "I met someone today with your hair style."

"Really? What was her name?" She fiddled with the radio for a second, leaving it on 101.1.

"Taylor, I think you'd like her," They pulled into the local Dairy Queen, parking in an empty place.

The man who occupied the sit-down side looked at them with confusion. "You know it's raining right?"

"Uh-huh," She giggled than pointed at the red slushi drink on the menu, "Can I have a large one of those?"

"Err, sure," He pushed a few button in on his computer than looked at Dr. Kylie, "Do you want something?"

"The same thing, lime though," He says with a smile. Handing the man a ten, they wait in the rain for their drinks.

"How was dance?" He asked his daughter as they are handed large cups. They take a seat in one of the booths with an umbrella.

She made a face similar to the one he had made in the car. "Terrible. Why do I have to take it?"

He watches as a car drives by, spraying a waterfall of dirty rain water into the air. It catches on the light for a second, creating a rainbow. "Your mother wants you to."

Jackie sips her slushi, her lips already stained with red. "She only wants me to because she did it when she was young."

Dr. Kylie sighed, "She only wants you to do it because she thinks it's best for you."

It thundered, low and deep as a fresh new sheet of rain came pelting down. A pretty pattern played on the umbrella, soaked in rain water. "Whatever. So, are you coming to parent-teacher conference next week?"

He stirred his drink with his straw, avoiding her eyes, "Your mom wants to go."

"Why can't you both go?" She whines, innocence sparkling in her eyes like puddles of rain soaked in oil.

Her father stared into the green slushi. "We just can't."

"I don't see why you guys can't get past your differences for me, Daddy."

"You're right, honey. We should."

"So why don't you?"

"It's not that easy Jackie. Your Mother..."

"No! Stop blaming it on her! She may not be perfect or anything but it's not just her fault. I know you and her don't want to make up but you can at least pretend you care around me!" She stood up and threw away her slushi, "Can you take me home?"

He looks up, hurt in his eyes, "Which one?"

Jackie closes her eyes, seeming lost in the storm. "I don't know."

Dr. Kylie wants to say his but resists. Maybe she's right. He needed to start taking his own advise. "Want me to take you to Mom's?"


	44. Falling Out of Boys

I look down at Mike's face, his mouth is open but slack, I can see they're slightly swollen and starting to bruise

Chapter Forty Two: Falling Out of Boys

"You're Nathan, I take it?" Dr. Kylie asked, he was sitting in his normal seat. A Starbucks cup was on his desk, steam rising slowly out of the hole in the lid. The place smelled like incense, something you'd buy at a seventies store or something. It wasn't a bad smell but it was different.

"You take right," Nathan mumbled, running a hand through his dark hair. It was wet from a cold shower but slowly rising to its normal form. "Sorry I'm late."

"No you're not," Dr. Kylie laughed. He reached for his coffee and slipped slowly. "So, tell me something intriguing."

"Fall Out Boy sucks," Nathan said dully.

He looks down at his shirt then back up at Nathan. "What makes you say that?"

"They sold out. Plus Pete Wentz looks like a monkey gone wrong," Nathan snorts, watching as the doctor looks offended.

"And you judge guys why?"

Nathan froze. His heart seem to slow and everything came into a clear focus. Something he had wanted in the beginning but the shower hadn't been able to achieve. Nathan spent an hour in the shower, trying to get himself awake. To get rid of the fuzzy blanket covering his world.

"Am I that obvious?" Nathan croaks.

Dr. Kylie, at first, didn't know what he had said to get a reaction like that. He was flustered as to why a little joke made Nathan go pale. But it hits him and he doesn't lose momentum.

"What do you mean?"

Nathan gaped at the man for a second, thinking harshly. He decides there though, that maybe confessing the feelings rolling around in his head might actually help. A girly thought but not exactly an insane one. His father would never know. These things were confidential.

"I think I'm gay," He finally says.

"You think?" Dr. Kylie pressed. Homosexuals never bothered him, in fact as weird as it sounded, he preferred them. Most gays didn't care what people thought about them, they shouted that they liked pink, sung that kitties were pretty. He thought it was funny, amusing at hell. The doctor also respected that someone could openly say that they like men, letting girls and boys alike eat them alive for their differences. It took a fuck load of guts.

"I'm not sure…," Nathan shrugged. "I thought I liked Daley. But when I'm around her, it's more of a family love. I don't want to kiss her, I want to protect her."

"Are you sure she's just not the one for you?"

"I dated Melissa once. Before the crash." He felt nothing as the memories were uncovered by the mention of her name. "We kissed… We… Yeah. But I didn't like it. That's not normal. I didn't feel a goddamn thing."

"Hmm," He writes something on his clipboard. "Is that why you broke up?"

"What?"

"Is that why you broke up with Melissa? Because you didn't feel anything?" He elaborated.

Nathan shrugged again. "Our break-up wasn't really clear. We just stopped dating and junk. I didn't need to call her and tell her we were through. She just sort of assumed. Hell, it wasn't even official that we were dating."

"Did you feel anything with her?" He wanted to delve deeper into what Eric had said but he restrained himself. Asking would be veering off topic and onto Melissa. Melissa was dead. He couldn't save her.

"I was mad at her a lot. For no real reason," He blew past his statement and looked up at the clock. "Can I go?"

"What?" Dr. Kylie swung around to look at the hands, "Oh, yeah. Sure."

"See you later."

"Yeah, you will."


	45. Mom

Just noticed I randomly got a line from another story I'm doing to be put on the top of the last chapter… How does that happen

Just noticed I randomly got a line from another story I'm doing to be put on the top of the last chapter… How does that happen? Haha, that's so weird… Anyways.. Little nervous about this chapter and you guys responses. Please tell me what you think!

Chapter Forty Three: Mom

Spinning, the colors bursting in front of her eyes like a 4th of July finale. She takes a step forward, her leg giving out and sending her sprawling to the floor. She's in peace though, so happy, so, so happy.

Taylor rolls onto her side, curling her legs up to her chest. "Is this really happiness?"

It's a weird feeling, like being too high on a plane. Ears popping, stomach clenched. She wants to throw up her soul, staining the shaggy carpet that made her eyes scream. But she can't seem to work up the courage to shatter her mother's perfection.

"_I wanna' die. I wanna' die so bad_."

She can't explain it. This.. happiness, no, no, no. She can't do this. How can people feel this all the time? Her body shakes, trying to reject whatever was causing it to react like this. Finally, her breakfast comes bubbling up, tearing her throat and insides apart like a blender. The drug whips around her system, unthreading her sanity and breaking her consciousness.

Taylor can't bring herself to get up and call Dr. Kylie. Or Eric. Or anybody. She only brings her legs closer to herself, trying to be smaller and lets out a quiet whimper. "_Mom."_

A yellow tube lies a few feet away from her, a white cap littering the floor too. Pills scattered around, being eaten by carpet. A label, blurred words fogged by dried tears read: Take two.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

"_Therapy?" _His stale breath washes over a teenage boy who is shivering violently.

"Y-yes sir." Eric's chest gives another great, shaky breath, trying to suck in some kind of hope he would make it out alive.

"_Why do you look so scared?" _

Eric turns his head, a hic-up escaping his parched throat. He says nothing though. Only closes his eyes and searches his soul for some place to hide so he doesn't feel anything.

His father pushes him into the wall, gripping his shoulders hard enough to bruise. "_You're scared I'm going to hurt you?" _

"Yes!" The word is ragged with such emotion; Eric can taste his bile threatening to be unleashed.

His knee shoots up and hits Eric's stomach, he doubles over in pain. A foot launches out and hits his head with a low thud. Eric doesn't feel a thing.

Blow after blow, hit after hit. Blood drips down his chin, his face soaked in thick warm blood. There's an odd sort of feeling in his wrist. Like it had been too long under an ice pack. Must have been broken.

His father is yelling something but it's background music.

_He should be done now. Why hasn't he stopped? He's going to kill me. _Eric's breathing gets frantic, everything turning red as his father continues to punch his face. _I can't breathe, I can't think. Wh-_

Eric spirals into a dark oblivion, a familiar face greeting him as his body shuts down. "_Mom?" _


	46. Your Past Experiences

Just noticed I randomly got a line from another story I'm doing to be put on the top of the last chapter… How does that happen

Wow you guys are awesome! I'm really happy with the response lol. Why does everyone think Eric is beaten by his Dad? I have no idea. Read and review please!! Not my best written piece..

Chapter Forty Four: Your Past Experiences

_He's flying through the air, his feet disappearing in the bright sun as the swing propels him forward. _

"_Higher, Mommy, higher!" Cody screams, his long hair whipping forwards as the swing comes down to meet his Mother's expecting hands. _

HGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG

"So, I heard you were the brains of the operation?" Dr. Kylie laughs at the small boy in front of him.

"Brains? Maybe. I know I'm the one with the least amount issues though," Lex states dully, sucking on the lollypop he had come in with absently.

HFGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

"_He's coming home in a half an hour Cody. Go to your room, don't come out in till I say its okay." _

_Cody nods, searching for books he can bring with him while Mommy and Huey fight. It was scary, the pathetic shouts and screams echoing throughout the small apartment. Sometimes the neighbors asked but his Mother always told them a lie. _

"_Lies are okay as long as they protect your family," she used to tell him afterwards. _

BBBBBBBBBEWWWEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

"Jackson, you mean? Oh yeah, he got pneumonia really bad at some point. It tripped everybody in this frantic hurry to prove to everyone that Jackson was somehow closer to one than the other. He really wasn't." Lex snorts. "He was the most distance of us all and didn't say much to anyone. Of course, when he got sick he started spilling everything!"

"You sound mad," Dr. Kylie commented.

"I think I was. Everyone used to think I was some unstable little kid because all that was happening. It was kind of nice, having all that attention. Then Jackson became everyone's pity case and they forgot about me."

"Pity's not the best form of attention Lex."

"I don't think I cared what kind of attention I got, I just wanted attention," Lex explained.

FDFEWRTRTYTTRUUUUUUUUUUUUU

"_What did you do for Christmas Cody? Did you get any presents?" Mrs. B pressed him. Cody was standing in front of the class, his face bright red with embarrassment. He just wanted Mrs. B to leave him alone. _

"_Well, Huey came home kinda drunk," Cody mumbled, "But he brought that white floury stuff for me!" He smiled proudly, "Huey says no body but me gets that because I'm so special!" _

"_Sit down Mr. Jackson! Just sit down. We'll discuss this later!" _

_What had he said? Was she afraid the kids would be jealous?_

QQQQQQQQQQQQQQWWWWWWWWWWW

"So all in all, what do you think of all the 29ers?"

"I think we need some serious help."

ZZZZZZZZZXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXDEWEEEEEEEE

"Jackson! Jackson!" Susan shouted, shaking his sleeping form. "What did you do?"

His slim form was hunched over a notebook, he smelt like alcohol, in fact… The pages were soaked in it. His heartbeat was slow under her palm.

"Did you…?" Susan trailed off, "You did!"

She jumped up and ran for the telephone, punching in the numbers for an emergency. Why did he do this?

"Yes, my son! He took my sleeping pills with some alcohol! He's not waking up! Please help me!" 


	47. Living Through Tonight

Just noticed I randomly got a line from another story I'm doing to be put on the top of the last chapter… How does that happen

Chapter Forty Five: Living Through Tonight

_They're home. _

_A false sense of security as they're all sucked in by the familiarity of these darkened streets. Blues and reds flash in the night, people watching from their windows with their prying eyes. _

_Each ambulance holds a child whose upbringing was anything but easy. Anything but fun. They each remember their mother's in a different light. Love, forgiveness and hate. The feelings swirl in their heads, bouncing off their skulls, looking and searching for a way out to connect. _

_That's what the island was for. They needed to connect before they exploded. So on edge, so close to breaking point, they don't even realize it. _

_Now as they lie on the pure white gurney, getting their stomach pumped or having their body groped for bruises and breaks… Is this what life is going to be? Is this what they have to look forward if they live through the night? _

_Is everyday going to be a struggle? Their own parents, dead or alive, binding themselves to their children and sucking their life away till they are so broken they don't want to live anymore. Do they realize the heavy destruction they are putting their kids through? Do they know how many tears these kids have shed for what felt like no reason but was actually so many reasons they couldn't think? _

_And if they do… Do they care? _

_And if they don't… Will they change? _

_If Jackson, Taylor and Eric get through this, will they be sane? Will they be able to look themselves in the mirror and think "This is __**me**__!" Without smashing the mirror? Can they get through the next time, the tomorrows and todays? _

_And if they manage that, just barely, if they can take quick glances without puking… Does that really mean they're okay? They tried to fucking kill themselves, they can't be okay! If they live through this, God help them live through everything else. _

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

"I need to go Lillian!" Drake yelled, his voice cracking. "Did you hear what my boss said? Three !"

"I heard Drake!" Lillian shrieked, "But your daughter's dance recital is tonight and she wants _both _of us to be there! You can't just leave like this for work!"

"Work? Work!?" Dr. Kylie opened the front door to leave, "You think this is work? Three kids that I am very close to are in the hospital Lillian! This has nothing to do with work and everything to do with knowing if they're all right! Alex doesn't even like dance!"

He slammed the door shut and ran for his car, stopping only to watch as an ambulance sped by, its wails piercing his heart hard. He suddenly remembered why he had chosen to do this for a living.


	48. Blaming

Chapter Forty Six:

Chapter Forty Six: Blaming

Susan looked down at the damp notebook, everything else in the world too bright for her taste. She wasn't really seeing it though. She barely registered the dampened cardboard in between her hands; she didn't see her daughter's name scrawled on it. Susan only thought. Her darkened thoughts swirled inside her, overtaking her better judgment of things. _Why does this always happen to me? Oh my God, please don't take Jackson from me. _

She hadn't really known him. Than again, who did? Jackson was distant, unhealthy and down right depressing. But he was hers. She could hug him close and call him hers. She could baby him and no one would give a second glace. Sometime she didn't think she would be able to do ever again since Melissa had gone missing. Susan thought, maybe, things weren't supposed to go that way. God hadn't intended for her to die there, so He gave her Jackson. What a load of bull shit that was. Another child, ripped from the arms of a mother.

"Susan, is that you?"

He was going to die, he was going with Melissa. Where they would laugh at how miserable she was without them. She wouldn't be able to take it-

"Hey, Susan?"

She looked up to meet the expensive face of an old friend. "Oh hey Diana! Sorry… Just, Jackson is in the hospital and… Wait, why are you here?"

Susan studied the usually flawless woman, her mascara was running. Black sludge dripping down her face in tear trails but a limp smile shone under her distressed face. "My baby, Taylor…" She gave another weak attempt at a smile like she wanted people to think it wasn't a big deal, "Well, she tried to…." Her voice broke. A sob raked her body and her legs came up to meet her chest.

Susan's own composure started to crumple. "Jackson did too."

"I'm supposed to be at a cocktail party," she sobbed harder, hic-uping and choking out the sentence. It sounded stuck-up, heartless. But the way her voice was lined with hurt and love… She was worried. _So worried. _Sitting there in a tiny black dress, showing much more of her cleavage than any girl would want to show, she was crying over her daughter.

"D-did you know? Did you know she felt that way?" Diana sucked in a low breath, "Was I the only one who didn't know? I thought the therapy was for fun… I-I didn't think she really n-needed it." She closed her eyes. "Am I that stupid?"

"No, no," Susan patted her back dully. In actuality, she wanted to slap her. How could she be that blind? How could she not see her own daughter hurting? Taylor tried to kill herself and she's still trying to get the attention to swing back to her. 'Am I that stupid, hehe'.

Wait…

Melissa.

_Fucking hypocrite._

Did you know she was going to kill herself? Did you have even the slightest hint that she wanted to hurt herself that bad? Don't talk like you know a thing about parenting. Two kids have killed themselves when you should be protecting them from themselves. Stop pretending you're in control. Cry, cry, cry. You can't stop them from doing this and if it happens, it's not always your fault. If they said something… Why don't they say something? Because they feel that you can't or won't listen. So who's fault is it?

Why do we have to pin the blame on somebody?

Susan let out a broken wail and burst into tears.


	49. Shooting Up

Chapter Forty Seven: Shooting Up

Chapter Forty Seven: Shooting Up

He ties the fabric tighter. Not feeling the tingling in his finger tips, the voices telling him no.

Hands shaking.

"Dude, that's too much."

Someone's voice. Jacoby's probably. Yeah. He can hear the tiredness of high dragging his voice down to hell. Rotting his conscious from the inside out.

"Shut the fuck up," Ian cries hoarsely, not hearing his own brink of insanity.

"No seriously dude, too much!" Jacoby insists, wanting to get up and stop his friend but the weight gets heavier, subduing him into a calm-like silence.

Ian flicks the needle, seeing the contents barely react and smiles. A twisted smile that hurts his features, makes his blood-shot eyes burn as the sweat rolls into them.

Hands shaking.

He places his elbow firmly on the table, already so excited he lets out a squeal. Like a kid on Christmas Eve, he would get his presents.

The needle pierces skin.

Ian pushes on the top and lets the heroine roam inside him. Eating away at his soul, his emotions, everything in reach. The drug enters his body, touching his toes, letting him breathe.

Whoosh.

Everything and anything he was worried about, cared about.

Gone.

Like brushing a black thick paint over their faces. They didn't exist anymore.

Ian was Ian tonight.

He rolled around on the floor, not realizing he had fallen off his chair. Blues and greens explode in the air above him, like fireworks. He reaches out to touch them but feels nothing in his hands but air.

"Man? You're fucking shaking dude, you okay?" Jacoby rips off the mental chains of the drug and jumps up. Sweat pours from Ian's face and he reaches up from the ground in a claw-like motion. He's hisses in the dirt, letting the dust and trash taint his moistened clothing.

"Dude?" Jacoby touches his shoulder but pulls away as Ian jumps.

His dark eyes are wild, crazy, feverish. Bouncing inside his head. Searching for a way out. A way to stop the lights he can't touch. Off-switch, off-switch.

A sensation that should burn but doesn't, floats inside him. Tickling his throat and giggling. Asking, "Let me out?"

He does, happily. Letting the puke out on the grass, his hair. His bouncing eyes water, suddenly his nose bleeding. Mixing with the tears and sweat, creating a salty blend.

Jacoby is pulling out a cell phone and dialing.

Nine.

One.

One.


	50. Outside Help

Chapter Forty Eight: Outside Help

Chapter Forty Eight: Outside Help

He glanced down at his Vans, trying to avoid the soggy eyes of older woman. Jacoby wasn't sure why he was here actually. It was two in the freaking morning and he was sitting in a hard chair sober. Which was a state you didn't find him in too often. It wasn't that he couldn't quit the stuff. He just liked the line between his reality and fantasy to be blurred.

Just like Ian.

Ian had said the same words but Jacoby knew he had jumped into the black pit of addiction. Had he jumped too and not known it?

Drugs were dangerous. Something every user knew. But it was the thrill of using them that made doing them fun. But sitting here in this seat, catching chunks of the other woman's situation he had that bone-chilling realization.

Drugs iwere/i dangerous.

Watching Ian fade to madness on the dirt floor had opened his eyes. Hearing about these kids ODing and a man who was intoxicated beat his kid… Drugs were sick. They made people sick.

Of course, they made things better sometimes too. Though people love to blame the issue on drugs alone they only intensify the feeling. Or make you forget the negativity all together. Intensifying or disappearing, that's all they did. If you beat your son while under the influence it wasn't the drugs fault. You had that feeling inside you. Locked away maybe but it was there. Festering.

Jacoby remembered times where he needed a high. Where he needed his feelings to be erased. When he was afraid to feel what he was feeling. He had drowned himself in alcohol but only succeeded in drowning himself in that emotion.

These kids had tried to do that. This Father had tried to do that.

Then again, Jacoby was just assuming. He really didn't know anything. He was just a stupid fucking kid.

"Are you alright?"

Jacoby glanced up to see an Asian woman, slightly on the chubby side. She looked sad like all the other people here but there wasn't any hope in here eyes. Just the dull scar of what used to be there.

"Yeah," he said, "Just thinking."

"Thinking," she tasted the word, "You can't do that in here. You always draw the worse conclusion."

"Life always has the worse conclusion. Might as well brace myself for it," he told her bitterly.

"Maybe you're right," she bit her already bleeding lips. "Who's in there?" She pointed to the double doors where all the patients laid ahead.

"A friend of mine, Ian," he played with his long brown hair, fighting the tiredness of his heavy eyes.

The maternal instinct in her went off, red alarms in her brain telling her to comfort the thin boy. He looked sick, sort of like Jackson but more in a physical way. Dark bags laid under his gray eyes, his skin was washed out and his hair hung greasily over his face.

"What happened?" she asked, reaching out to touch him but he shook his head, no.

"He overdosed on heroine," he mumbled, deciding he didn't care if she knew or not. "Why are you here?"

"My son, sleeping pills and alcohol," she told him the same, the same look of passiveness on her face.

"Did he do it on purpose?" the forbidden question already out of his mouth before he though over the consequences.

"Did Ian?"

He simmered on the question before answering. "In the beginning, I don't think he meant to. But by the end I think he knew he wasn't getting out alive."

"Isn't that how it always is?"

He shook his head again, "No. Some people are out to kill themselves. Ian had a girl though, a purpose, I guess."

"You don't need to be purposeless to want to kill yourself," she said, "I don't think everyone goes in thinking they're going to die. The idea dawns upon them and they just jump."

"Or drink."

"Or drowned."

"Or"- "Stop it, will you?!"

They both turn to the irritated look of a young girl. Her black hair was short and done sloppily. A pink leotard stretched across her skinny body, slightly wet from the rain outside.

"Seriously, can you get anymore depressing?"


	51. Some Questions Answered

Chapter Forty Nine:

You're all going to hate me lol. Read and review!!

Chapter Forty Nine: Some Questions Answered

Jacoby gave the girl a bitter look, "As a matter of fact, I can."

She frowns, scooting uncomfortably in her seat, "Dad?" It was an expectant call like she knew he would answer. Jacoby could already feel the knowing pain in his stomach, knowing that his father never answered.

"Yeah sweetie?" A young man walked over, with two coffees in his hands. The steam curled up and disappeared above his lanky dark hair. His tie dye shirt was obviously home-made, something you didn't really see that much.

"When are we leaving?"

"When we know they're alright," he handed her the coffee but she ignored the offered beverage.

"Why are so many people here?"

Dr. Kylie placed the coffee on the cold floor and looked up, studying the faces of worried parents till they fell on familiar faces.

"Daley, Lex, Nathan, Jory," he called; their angst-ridden faces turn to him. The girls immediately brighten but the guys can't seem to shake off why they're here.

"Hey Dr. Kylie," Daley shook his hand professional, hoping she didn't seem as tired as she was, "I'm assuming you've heard?"

"Yeah," he sighed, "Have you heard anything?"

"Jackson and Taylor are getting their stomachs pumped," Nathan answered in a monotone voice.

"What did they OD on?" Dr. Kylie asked, his voice cracking. He already knew the answer to one of them. He bit his lip as he flew into the guilt trip, tasting coppery blood.

"They didn't tell us," Daley said, she noticed his eyes glazing. "They're going to be okay though."

"And Eric?"

Everyone's eyes dropped down, suddenly interested in the floor beneath them.

"Is he…?" Jackie broke the silence with child-like ignorance.

"They're not saying," Jory replies quietly.

"Ian?" Jacoby had joined the mourning group with ease.

"Who are you?"

"I'm his friend," Jacoby said, "I, uh, found him."

Something that felt too much like anger filled Jory, "Did you give him the heroin?" It was a harsh accusation but she was sick of being nice tonight. There was way too much at stake.

His eyes widened only slightly, "No."

"He's in a coma. They're not sure he's going to wake up."


	52. Throwing Up

Chester

Chapter Fifty: Throwing Up

His body is thrown forward again, eyes watering and nose stinging. If you've ever puked before, you know how much you want to stop but your body doesn't let you. It's one of the few times you can't control yourself, no matter how much you want to. It's scary but he had done this before and wasn't as frantic as he was supposed to be.

"Cody?"

It was the doctor but he ignored him. Somehow the only thing he could think about was Melissa's slanted writing, curly and delicate, covering the page from top to bottom with teenage angst. Of course, it was more than just angst. What Nathan had did to her… What she ithought/i was okay. It made him sick just thinking about.

Jackson threw up again, breathing heavily as his insides squirmed. If he had just fucking told her that he loved her. Or something along those lines… She would still be alive. Why were these thoughts so familiar? Why did he feel like he had said this before?

"Cody?"

"What?" His voice is harsh and barely there. It sounds like he had been crying or screaming, maybe both.

The doctor, a tall man with thick glasses, hands him a paper cup filled with water. "How are you feeling?"

"Ducky," Jackson replies, getting up on weak knees. Through all that he had read, he wasn't mad at Nathan. For some weird reason he couldn't feel the slightest tinge of anger towards the boy. Why? Anyone with half a brain would know he was seriously fucked up. Anyone with half a brain would have turned him over to the cops. Why did Jackson feel some faint connection between the two of them?

Maybe because they both screwed up. Maybe because Jackson felt like they all do things wrong unintentionally. And they couldn't help themselves. It didn't matter what he felt though, because he was supposed to be dead. He should be fucking dead.

"Did you do that on purpose son?"

"What?" he says again, the word hurts his raw throat but he ignores the pain.

"Try to kill yourself?"

"Yeah."

He was supposed to lie. That thought suddenly dawned upon as soon as the confirmation came out of his lips. It was too late now. What other pain would his mistakes cause?

"Do you know what that means?" the doctor gives him a serious look through his glasses, like he was penetrating his soul. But his eyes weren't focused enough to do that.

"Yeah."

"You're going to spend a few weeks at Rosemary Mental Institution," he makes a few notes on his clipboard, sort of like another doctor he knew but with less personalization.

Jackson looks down at his shoes, "An insane asylum."

"That sounds harsh."

"But its true isn't it?"

The doctor frowns but doesn't answer his question. He turns around and walks out of the room.


	53. Memory Lapse

Chapter Fifty One: Memory Lapse

_The balance between being asleep and actually being awake is a thin line. Foggy figures of men in white, yelling and screaming, the cries of a little girl, moaning in pain and the banging of a man giving into a heart attack. He knows he's in a hospital. He can feel it in his broken bones. The only thing he wasn't sure of was who he was. What was he doing here? Why was there oblivion of empty space where his memories should be? _

_Why was he in so much _pain_? _

"Is he ever going to be able to remember?" Taylor pressed the doctor, glancing at Eric's sleeping form another time. So frail and weak, wires and the beeping of cold machinery distorting the lie she made up to stop herself from truly panicking.

"Head injuries are tough to predict," the man scratched his bald head, "You're just going to have to hope for the best."

"Hope for the best?" She lowered her gaze to her trembling body covered in a thin hospital gown. How could she hope for the best when she was so sick of hoping for the best in herself she tried to… Taylor sighed, running a hand through her greasy hair.

"There has to be something better you can give me than that Doctor," Taylor finally spoke.

"I'm sorry," The doctor put a hand on her shoulder, "I know you have been going through a tough time but everyone goes through it. You need to be strong for him."

"Everyone goes through this?" She repeats, feeling like the idiot she pretended to be. Everyone can't go through this. The crushing blow of darkness eating away at your sanity in till there's nothing left.

"Look, maybe you should go back to your room."

"No!" Taylor cried, stiffening, "No, please don't make me be alone."

The doctor looks the trembling girl over, the girl who had protested that she hadn't tried to kill herself. It had been an accident. Her mother even tried to bribe the hospital.

"Cody Jackson is awake. Why don't you go talk to him before they pick him up?" he told her, steering her away from Eric.

"But I want to be with him! What if he wakes up?" Taylor squirmed out of his grasp.

The doctor was becoming less and less pitiful and more and more annoyed. "He won't be awake for hours Miss."

"I don't care!" Taylor insisted, planting herself on the seat she had occupied since she heard Eric came out of surgery.

He gave her a hard look but decided it wasn't worth it. He just wanted to go for his lunch break. "Just don't touch anything."

She nods, staring at the sleeping boy with a look that made the doctor suddenly understand.

"Young love," he mumbled, slamming the door behind him.


	54. Staying Awake

Sorry I'm updating so slowly. I'm trying to figure out if I should start a part two to this and *gasp* actually make a new story out of it. Or should I keep going with this one? So, go onto chapter 100 or end at like 60 and start a part two. You chose. And let's throw in what you want to see next chapter. Nathan, Doctorman, Jackson… ect..

Chapter Fifty Two: Staying Awake

Jory looked out the window longingly. Somehow, being forced to be inside made her suddenly want to be outside. She erased the thought from her mind though as her eyes averted back to Ian.

"Ian," she breathes his name like a swear. Though her feelings for her were indifferent at first, she slowly succumbed to the love-struck feeling that he had been engulfed by. Everything he didn't seem to be was exactly what he was. Innocent. Soft.

Now here he was. Broken in a bed again. Except this time, the doctors weren't sure he was going to walk away from this one. He might stay in a bed in till his parents decide to pull the plug. The last time she would ever see him would be here. Sleeping with an ashen face that's so still he might as well be dead.

Her own parents had come only a few hours ago but her steady silence had driven them away. The only one left was the teenager who had found Ian. Jacoby.

He was slumped over on a metal chair in the corner of the room. Long hair obscuring his features and a large jacket, which served as a blanket, covering up his slim body. Though she had told him he should leave, he refused to listen.

"He's my friend too," he had told her, rubbing away at his tired gray eyes. He had the same look as Ian, though it was wiser. Like he had accepted that he wouldn't amount to anything.

He had fallen asleep unwillingly only ten minutes ago. Time. It was going by so slowly it almost hurt. It had only been 14 hours since she had heard that he had ODed on heroine.

"What are you thinking?" A rough voice made her look away from Ian.

"You should sleep. You look like you need it."

Jacoby shrugs. "I don't want to." He slides off the chair, jacket in his arms. He drapes it across her shoulders. "Why don't you try?"

His leather jacket smells like cigarettes and warm cologne but it's strangely comforting. Suddenly, the long hours she had stayed up, sick with worry, had come back to her with dizzying speed.

"Maybe for a little," she replies hesitantly. Her tongue is heavy and thick. Jory falls asleep cuddled in the scent of a stranger.


End file.
